Monstrosity
by Gregsonator
Summary: Madeline is alive but trapped, and Waylon is living a life of hell thinking she is dead at his hands. The highly anticipated sequel to Humanity is back but things are going to get hectic. Can Waylon and Madeline find each other again and finally have a happily ever after, or will their reunion cause more trouble than its worth for the Batman free Gotham city?
1. Chapter 1

**Its back by popular demand! If you haven't read Humanity (Look at my stories) then I strongly suggest you do so otherwise this story will not make a lick of sense. I hope all the followers of the first story can find this one okay, and I hope they all enjoy.**

 **Chapter one**

The sterile white light pierced Madeline's eyes, blinding her as she finally came to. She struggled to keep them open, her eyelids heavy and her vision blurred. She turned her head away from the light and tried to regain her vision but everything was a blur. Squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again, willing her vision to clear, Madeline eventually regained clarity. She saw the white sterile walls of a padded cell, the white padded ceiling and padded floor. Panicked, she whipped her head to the other side and saw more white walls, as well as what looked like an IV drip and vitals monitor to her side. Her head started to pound with an agonising sting and she was forced to shut her eyes as everything began to race around. But it wasn't just her vision racing around, her head was spinning. It felt as if she wasn't in control of her own mind, and as she tried to move her body the command from her brain seemed to get lost in jumble of thoughts and feelings. Where was she? What was going on?

"Ah, I see you are awake?" An unfamiliar voice said, but when Madeline tried to open her eyes to see who it was she felt as if her eyeballs were spinning around inside of her skull so she kept them clenched shut. She tried to speak but the words suddenly seemed foreign to her, as if she were trying to speak fluent Chinese with no lessons.

"Don't worry my dear, it'll come back to you." The stranger reassured. "We had to use some seriously strong drugs to keep you alive so the side effects are still present." Madeline had a million questions racing through her mind. Who was this man, where was she, why had they given her drugs to keep her alive, how long had she been unconscious for, where was..?

Like a bolt of lightning Madeline was hit with a wave of everything humanly possible. Emotions, memories, dreams and nightmares all rolled into one and thrust into her fuzzy brain all in the same moment. Her eyes burned with tears but she could not open them to let them free, nor could she open her mouth to scream. Dead. She had been dead. She had died, crushed by Waylon's jaws and held in his arms until the agonising pain of her injuries had finally forced her into unconsciousness. She hadn't even had chance to see her life flash before her eyes, and before she could even register that she was unconscious everything had suddenly shut off. The only memory that followed was waking up in this room, her body unable to move and her brain frazzled.

"Now my darling, calm down. I understand this must all be very traumatizing for you." The stranger comforted, resting his hand on Madeline's arm. His hand was cold and didn't quite feel right. He was wearing gloves perhaps, latex? Was he a doctor? How could he tell her to calm down, she had died and then suddenly woken up in a strange room practically paralysed. It was enough to drive someone mad, and Madeline certainly felt like madness would be a pleasant change from _this_ reality.

 _No Madeline, focus, you can't go crazy, you wouldn't suit crazy. Just calm down, forget everything you just remembered and focus. Where are you? What can you figure out?_

Madeline forced the encroaching insanity to the back of her mind and tried to focus her thoughts. She was in a white padded cell so she was in a medical institution, maybe Arkham? The air was cool and dry, air-conditioned so maybe underground, like a secret medical testing facility. The stranger was a doctor, or a scientists, and he spoke with authority but with a hint of sincere sympathy. Also, as she listening to his accent, he was most likely from northern Asia but Madeline wasn't nearly cultural enough to figure out which country.

"How about I give you something to help with your vision hmm? Yes, let's do that." The stranger explained, and Madeline felt something prick her skin. A needle. There was a brief pinch of pain as the contents were injected but her head almost instantly steadied itself, her eyes stopped spinning and she felt a little bit of clarity return to her mind.

"There. Does that feel better?" The stranger asked, and Madeline opened her eyes. It was still bright but not quite so garish, and she could see clearly. She tried to command her arms and legs to move but they did not obey. She turned her head to see the stranger who was dressed in a white lab coat with a white mask and safety glasses. It almost looked like the gear you would wear when dealing with chemicals, not quite a full on hazmat suit but close.

"A-A l-little." Madeline stuttered, her voice hoarse and strange to her ears. She felt as if she hadn't heard it in a long time.

"Glad to hear it. Within a few weeks you should be back to your old self again." The stranger said as he inspected the vitals.

"W-What happened." Madeline asked, forcing herself to speak sense and not stutter like a fool. "What happened!" She felt the crazy start to bubble inside her again but forced it down.

 _No Madeline, you aren't allowed to go mad. Not yet. You have to figure out what is going on first._

"What happened!" She snapped again, staring at the stranger who looked at her with a pitiful expression.

"You poor thing." He cooed, his eyebrows furrowed with despair. "Wrenched back from the grave against your will. Tossed into a world of confusion. Alas, I cannot give you the answers you seek.

"WHY NOT!" Madeline screeched, tears streaming from her eyes. He couldn't tell her this. She needed to know. She had a _right_ to know.

"Don't worry my dear. All will be revealed soon. I promise." The stranger explained as nicely as he could, but he might as well have been spitting the words the way Madeline took it. She tried to lift her arms to thrash about, to get up and kill the bastard for not answering her questions but she could do little more than scream. So she did.

"Calm down my dear. Please." The stranger begged as he watched the vitals spike on the monitor, and the heart rate begin to beep incessantly. Madeline didn't listen, she just screamed and thrashed her head from side to side for it was all she could manage. She wanted answers, she wanted to know what was going on. She wanted to get out of there. She wanted to see Waylon again, hit him for killing her and then kiss him for being oh so adorable as she died in his arms. Where was he? How long had she been out? Was he even still alive?

"Put her under doctor." Another stranger's voice announced, coming from a speaker somewhere in the room. It was a woman's voice, an older woman but a powerful one.

"But mama..."

"Put her under." The voice ordered again, and the stranger reached for a syringe sitting on a silver table near the vitals.

Madeline tried to protest against this, and prayed for her arms to move so she could smack the needle out of the stranger's hand but to no avail. The needle went in and soon the contents made Madeline's head feel vague and fuzzy. Her strength escaped her and she couldn't keep her eyes open.

"I am terribly sorry my dear, but you are far too valuable for me to let you hurt yourself and..."

The stranger's voice trailed off Madeline slipped into unconsciousness, and once more she felt like she had been abruptly switched off.

"Nice work Croc." Harvey Dent applauded, clapping obnoxiously as Waylon tossed the whimpering government official at the mobsters feet. He growled with indifference and stalked around to the corner of the room to sit and snarl at anyone and everyone who looked his way.

"You should count yourself lucky." Twoface began, switching from the calm an rational lawyer to the psychopath super criminal as he peered down at the terrified official who had wet his pants on the way back from his office. "He ate the last guy before bringing him to me. Hard to get information out of a corpse." The official whimpered and curled up into a ball, hands on his head.

"P-Please don't kill me!" He begged, sounding like a pathetic child. "I'll tell you what you want! I swear!"

"Vern, come on now." Harvey grumbled, dragging the whimpering mess to his feet. "Show a little self respect."

Waylon decided he was bored and turned to leave. Twoface's schizophrenic personality switches were not as entertaining as they once used to be and were bordering on annoying. He wasn't smart enough or interested enough to keep up with them.

"Croc, you're leaving? I need you to make this guy squirm when he decides to withhold information." Twoface called, raising his fist to make the official flinch and drop to the ground before being scolded by Harvey for being so immature.

"Just yell." Waylon answered, squeezing through the narrow doorway and out onto into the night air. It was a horrible night, the sky stained with the amber glow of city lights and not a star to be seen. Even the moon was barely visible. It might as well have been day time, and Waylon hated the light.

It had been five years since Batman's death, and Gotham had returned to the hands of the criminals. All of the villains Batman had locked up on his last night, all the scum bags and evil doers, every Twoface, Penguin, and Harley Quinn he had thrown behind bars once and for all, had escaped and resumed their roles in Gotham unopposed. Nightwing and Robin had tried their best of course to re-capture the escapees, and Robin had even succeeded in re-capturing Twoface. But once again, despite the walls and restraints and the inability to use the death penalty, he and everyone else had escaped again. Waylon hadn't been captured since his escape from Arkham four years ago, back when...

Waylon felt his stomach growl and he glanced around for something to eat. Alas, there was no poor soul or unfortunate rat nearby to quench his hunger, and since Twoface had his interrogation well underway, he wasn't getting paid until he was finished. He slumped down on the ground and stared at the empty sky. Gotham sure had changed a lot. It was easier to get around now since the city was practically run by the criminals, and he had a steady flow of jobs capturing politicians, moving heavily artillery, destroying stuff, life was good. Well, an outsider would have thought that was good, but honestly it was more of a nuisance for Waylon. He wanted to be left alone but people kept hiring him and he had no choice but to say yes. If the big bad crocodile of Gotham stopped being a contributing member of criminal society then he became a threat or at the very least a commodity. And if he wasn't useful to the criminals in Gotham, then there was a good chance he'd end up getting sold to the highest government organisation wanting to create super soldiers again. The last thing he wanted was to get locked up and subjected to experiments and tests all over again. Then again, some days he felt like the last thing he wanted to do was exist.

The past few years had been somewhat of a blur. Each job he did, each pay he took, each person he devoured in primal rage, and every waking moment of self isolation just seemed to blur together. The four years since... well, everything just felt like it had happened over a few weeks instead of a few years, and it could have been only yesterday when...

"Excuse me?" One of Twoface's thugs asked very politely. The interruption snapped Waylon out of his relatively calm train of thought and back into his usual angry, savage domineer. He growled at the interruption and made the thug stagger back a little out of striking range. Not that it would do him much luck, everything was in Waylon's striking range.

"Twoface needs you for some intimidation tactics." The thug explained rather timidly. He was a tall thug, very board shoulders and covered with tattoos, but all of that didn't stop him pissing himself out of fear from Waylon.

Begrudgingly Waylon got to his feet and stalked back into the warehouse where the poor government official was crouched on the floor with a bloody nose and Twoface... no, Harvey, standing before him rolling down his sleeves after the supposed beating.

"He doesn't seem to have anything left to tell me." Harvey said, and the official began to whimper.

"I don't know anything else, I promise!" He pleaded, but Waylon knew what Twoface's game was so he grabbed the official by the leg, dragged him across the floor towards him and then yanked him up into the air. He dangled the squirming man above his head and opened his jaws wide, slowly lowing the official down into his jaws. The government official screamed and tried to get free but he could do little more than stare in horror as the mouth of jaws drew closer and closer. Rancid breath hot on his skin and saliva dripping like acid. The fact that Waylon was hungry didn't really help with the little facade though, he did really want to eat this guy.

"Such a shame you don't know anything else." Harvey said as he turned his back to walk away, signalling for his men to follow so the official really thought he was being left to be devoured by the giant crocodile.

"Wait, I know something else! Please don't go! I'll tell you!" The official screamed but Waylon didn't stop the slow decent. Partly to instil a bit more panic into the official but also because he really wanted to eat him. Harvey stopped in his tracts and slowly turned around, Twoface smiling from ear to mangled ear on his face.

"Alright then, let's see what else you have for me?" He sneered, stalking forward and signalling for Waylon to put the official down. Waylon begrudgingly obeyed and dropped the government official. It was quite a drop so the man grunted when he hit the ground but dared not protest against the mistreatment.

"The city is almost broke!" The official blurted, certainly grabbing Twoface's attention. "A large sum of money was taken out of the funs but I don't know by who or for what!" Twoface groaned at the vague description and turned to leave again. Waylon was very hungry at this point so he did very nearly eat the official. Sadly, the official blurted out some more before he got the chance to do so.

"It wasn't anyone within the city council. It was someone above us, maybe even above the government itself!" The official blurted again, and this time Twoface had enough to be satisfied with keeping the whimpering man alive. He gestured for Waylon to back off, and again, begrudgingly, he obeyed. When had he become such an obedient lap dog. Oh yeah, when he got paid to do it.

"Higher than the government you say?" Twoface queried, squatting down so he was at the same level as the official. "Who could that be?"

"I don't know who it was, but the only thing those types of people do with mass sums of money is fund illegal things. A bit like the people Hugo Strange was working for in Arkham City."

"Hmm." Twoface pondered, trying to decide the fate of this quivering man. He made a good show of acting like the decision was a really tough one, forcing the official to literally pray for his life.

In good old Twoface fashion, Twoface produced a coin, one side clean as a whistle and the other scared and burnt just like him. He whistled a tune as he rested the coin on his thumb and flicked it into the air. The sound of the coin was one that many in Gotham dreaded hearing. It was the sound of both life and death. The sound of your life hanging in the balance. Twoface caught the coin mid air and slapped it down onto the back of his hand. He very slowly revealed the coin, as if he were undressing a sexy woman or something, and the expression on his face certainly matched up with that as well. He smirked when the coin was revealed to him and put it in his pocket before anyone else could see it.

"Alright Vern. You are free to go." Harvey said cheerfully, and two thugs dragged the official to his feet. Waylon was fairly certain with those prayers answered the official would go back to his corrupt, money laundering ways. As they took the official out of the warehouse to put him in a car and take him home, Waylon could have sworn he heard the official curse him under his breath. He was a little paranoid about such things however, so he did his best to brush it off as his mind playing tricks on him.

"Thank you for your services today Croc." Harvey said with a gleaming smile, on half of his face at least. "Shall I forward your payment to the usual accounts?" Waylon grunted in agreement and turned to leave. _He_ had no use for money, but he did know several other people who did. One account belonged to a kidnapping organisation who were very good at catching their targets. Waylon paid them to bring him breakfast, lunch, and dinner from all over Gotham since his hunting grounds were getting increasingly more infested with thugs and certain super criminals would be less than happy if he started eating their men. The other account belonged to a nineteen year old boy who lived somewhere down south, where exactly Waylon didn't know. The last few were the accounts of several people who knew about Waylon's location and needed to be bribed to stay quiet, as well as a few other small time merchants who supplied Waylon with the odd items from time to time like furniture and alcohol. It would have been easier to just kill the people who knew about his location and steal the stuff he wanted but who would have thought a city without Batman would be _harder_ to be a criminal. Well, a reptilian criminal at least.

Twoface's chosen warehouse wasn't far from Waylon's hideout so he didn't have to go very far. He had taken up residence in the Miagani Island lighthouse, a small space set away from the city on a protruding bit of land that had half fallen into the river. It was just far enough away from the city for people not to bother him, but close enough for him to get from the lighthouse to a sewer entrance without being spotted. As he squeezed through the door, the metal around the frame already bent to make it big enough for his hulking frame, he cast his eyes on the mess that he called home.

The floor was littered in bones, some of which he had shoved into a large pile in the corner, but most were on the floor. There were old lobster traps and grates, fishing nets and hooks, an anchor hanging on the wall for decoration. Waylon had hauled in some lockers, a fridge and a generator so he could keep a few items away from the mess of bones and so he could have cold beers for a change. He checked the fridge but then remembered he'd drank the last of them the night before. A little irritated at the lack of alcohol he slumped down in the middle of the lighthouse on the three mattresses he used as a bed and stared into nothingness.

He was all alone at last, finally, some solitude. It was kind of funny that he craved isolation so often considering he used to loath the solitary confinement in Arkham Asylum. Perhaps it was because _his_ solitary confinement was a little more... no it was definitely worse than Arkham. At least he had the option to leave, not that he ever wanted to. There wasn't really any reason to bother leaving the lighthouse, and if it wasn't for work he would most likely never leave. The prospect of just staying inside and starving to death had crossed his mind, but his Killer Croc side always forced him outside within twenty four hours. Suicide wasn't an option either, Killer Croc was very adamant on staying alive. Waylon didn't see any point in it, he was alone and miserable and hated himself. Content that his thoughts and surroundings couldn't make him any more depressed Waylon lay down and shut his eyes tight, but it wasn't like sleep would let him escape his misery.

 **Madeline is alive and in some strange lab or hospital or something with mysterious people. So much mystery, and how can our even more devolved Waylon solve such mysteries to get back to her. He is still living with the guilt of killing her in the first place and can't even bring himself to say or think her name. Keep an eye out for updates and please leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Waylon's dreams were persistent and often nightmarish, but always followed a familiar pattern so he knew what was coming. He'd had enough of them to recognise dream from reality, and despite how wonderful and convincing they were, he knew he had to wake up at some point. As per usual he awoke in his dream lying in a golden field of wheat, the sun just starting to rise so everything was cascaded in golden light. He sat up and looked around. Sure enough, he was once again out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by countless fields with only one building in sight. That building was a small wooden cabin with its back to a creek. He grunted as he got to his feet and looked down at his body. He would never get used to seeing himself in this form. Whenever he was in this dream, at the beginning at least, he was in the same type of body he had when he was younger, back when he was in Haley's circus over fourteen years ago.

The cabin was old, but far from empty, the welcoming glow from within accompanied by the delicious scent of sizzling bacon, eggs, beans and sausage. The scent was heavenly and made Waylon's mouth water, but he hesitated to move closer. He knew what was inside, and he knew how this dream would play out the minute he looked through the window. He didn't have the option of staying where he was however, he wouldn't wake up until the dream played through. So with a heavy heart he moved forward towards the cabin and up onto the veranda. He glanced at the door but couldn't bring himself to go through it yet, not yet. Instead he went to the window and peered through the slightly murky glass. The cabin was cosy with the kitchen, dining room and living area all in the same space. In the kitchen Waylon could see the back of a woman standing over the stove, her long brown hair tied up in a messy bun.

While he could not see her face he admired her beautiful appearance for quite some time. She had elegant curves and a bottom that was a little bit bigger than the average white girl, her skin silky smooth like milk. She wore one of Waylon's shirts, tied in a knot so her lower back was partially exposed before her black thong barely preserved her modesty. Waylon rested his head on the window frame, admiring the beauty before him, watching as she cooked the food and hummed a familiar tune. Waylon wanted her to turn around so he could admire her even more beautiful face, but she would only do that when he opened the door and went inside, and once he did that the nightmare would catch up with him. He didn't want the nightmare, but watching her made his chest ache and his eyes burn with tears desperate to escape. The guilt sat in the pit of his stomach like rotten meat, festering and burning him from the inside out. He wanted the dream to be over so he didn't have to feel this way anymore, but he also wanted to keep the dream going so he could stay with her in this paradise.

Regretfully, Waylon pushed the door open and stepped inside the cabin. He felt as if someone had just suddenly pressed play on his life as the world seemed to race forward into action as the dream played out.

"Madeline." He croaked, her name so painful on his lips but also so sweet, like a drug that destroyed you body and soul but with a high that was so worth the pain. The beauty before him turned around, a sweet smile on her perfect face, made even more cheerful by the scatter of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were emerald green and glistened like real gems, illuminated by everything that she was. Kind, sweet, gentle and loving, but also fiery and passionate, wild and untamed by even him.

"Hey honey. You ready for breakfast..?" Madeline asked, but before he let her finish her sentence he rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly and burring his face in her neck. Madeline was a little startled but relaxed and rested her hands on his hands in a comforting manner.

"What's the matter sweetie?" She asked in a sympathetic tone like she always did. Waylon gritted his teeth and tried not to sob like a pathetic mess but it took all he had. Madeline stayed positive and sweet but also sounded a little worried as she pressed for answers, just like she always did.

"Babe? Are you alright?" She asked, sounding anxious. Waylon just held onto her more tightly, as if she would slip away at any moment.

"I'm sorry." He blurted, each word making it harder to contain his emotions. He just wanted to roar, scream and cry but he knew that would be a rather stupid thing to do in front of Madeline, even if she was just a dream version. Still, he couldn't help the way he felt any more than he could stop the apologies flooding out of his mouth.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so so sorry!" He cried, holding her as tightly as possible.

"For what babe?" Madeline asked, her hands gently stroking Waylon's chest to comfort him. "You haven't done anything." Waylon bit his lip until it started to bleed as he felt the world around him shift and change. He could practically feel the sky turn dark and murky, the room become the putrid sewers of Gotham, and his body morph into its most current form. What he could _literally_ feel however, was the blood start to trickle onto his hands and drip onto the floor. He could hear the slight gagging and gurgling of a dying Madeline, accompanied by her raspy breath.

He continued to apologise the whole time. The nightmare was almost over, it was almost over, but it would not end until he looked at her, until he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved and had killed. He didn't want to look however, he didn't want to see her broken arm and crushed torso, her blood and organs spilling out onto the floor and the colour drain from her face. The worst thing though, the part he did not want to see above all else was her smile. When she had died at his hands and held in his arms she had told him she didn't blame him and smiled at him. That beautiful smile still beaming despite what he had done. He didn't deserve that smile. That smile was the worst part of this nightmare, but he still had to see it before it could end.

He opened his eyes first, staring at the sewer floor for a while, the dead bodies of the GCPD around them, and then he lifted his head to see Madeline's smile.

"Hush little baby don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird..." Madeline began, the same song that had calmed Waylon so many times had become the haunting melody of a ghost that plagued his mind and tugged on his already fragile conscience. Still, he had to listen to it for this nightmare to end, and it was the only part of the nightmare that calmed him, even if it was followed by the worst part of all.

"...and if that mocking bird don't sing, mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns brass..."

Madeline turned a little paler and she coughed up a little blood, splattering it onto her chest like she did every time. And like every time she continued the song.

"...mama's gonna buy you a looking g-glass... and if that... looking glass gets... broke..."

Madeline gasped for air and Waylon shut his eyes tight, he couldn't bare this, it was too heartbreaking. But there was no more singing as his eyes were shut, only the suffocating gasps for air, and they would continue until he looked at her again. It was only befitting, this _was_ his punishment for what he had done. He forced his eyes open and gazed at the dying woman in his arms, his heart shattering all over again.

"...mama's gonna buy you..."

Silence. Total and complete silence as Madeline's arm fell limp and her body turned cold. This was as far as Waylon's memory went. The earth shattering moment as Madeline died had been his last memory of this event, but that didn't mean the nightmare ended there. Killer Croc had filled in the ending and even in his dream Waylon felt the monster inside him take control of his body. He felt his mouth open and his head move forward, and as much as he tried to resist he could do little more than delay the inevitable. He begged, pleaded with the beast inside him to not do this, to please give him one night free from having to do this. But like always the monster prevailed, and Waylon's jaws clamped around Madeline's dead body, tearing the flesh from her bone.

Waylon awoke with a start, but it wasn't the nightmare that jolted him from his sleep. Instead it was the banging on the door of the lighthouse he had awkwardly jammed shut. Grunting, he got to his feet and stalked over. If it was another teenager trying to be an adventurer he was not going to be merciful when killing them. When he yanked the door open and snarled at the visitor, ready to catch them in his claws and end their prying lives, he saw that it was not a curious teenager or drunken adult but a short, fat man with a pointed nose and an awkward waddle. The Penguin.

He stood with one henchman holding an umbrella over his head while the other held an AK47 in full view just in case Waylon got any ideas. Not that it mattered, regular bullets didn't work on him. Penguin however, was not very tasty looking so eating the fat crime boss was far from his list of things to do.

"What do you want?" He growled, crossing his arms and holding himself up. He had to use the weight of his tail to keep his balance when upright, he was a little too top heavy otherwise.

"I have a job for you." Penguin announced, his hands in his coat pockets. "A shipment of guns is coming in from Bloodhaven and I need extra protection when they arrive just in case."

"Just in case of what?" Waylon grumbled, the prospect of doing work the last thing on his mind so soon after the nightmare. "A robin?"

"The Blackbird or whatever he's called."

"Nightwing sir." One of the thugs corrected, and Penguin shot him a look so cold and menacing Waylon was sure the poor idiot was going to get thrown into the river.

"Yes." Penguin snarled, turning his attention back to Waylon. "Nightwing. He messed up my gun business last time and I will not have it again. I believe he caused you some problems as well?"

Waylon remembered the events on Iron Heights, the prison airship he had been held captive in and experimented on. When he'd escaped and captured the warden with the intention of forcing him to fix the mutations they'd caused in him through their brutal experiments, Batman and Nightwing had shown up and knocked him out. He certainly wanted to snap the cocky Batman wannabe like a twig, if he hadn't shown up then Batman would have been as good as dead.

"How much are you going to pay me." Waylon grumbled, not really that bothered on the price but he had to at least act like he was a normal criminal for hire.

"$30,000." Penguin stated flatly. "That's ten for each time, I need you to do this job three times you see."

"That's a little low." Waylon complained, he wasn't sure if that _was_ low or not, he didn't really know much about the value of money anymore. He did attract a lot of attention though so that would explain a price drop, if there was a price drop. How much had Twoface paid him again?

Penguin grumbled and thought for a moment, the stingy mob boss reluctant to fork over more cash. Then an idea seemed to pop into his ugly bald head and he grinned at the thug holding the umbrella, the one who had corrected him earlier.

"How about a little pre-job payment." He suggested, and snatched the umbrella from the thugs hands. The thug turned pale and looked at Waylon with horror as Waylon realised what the _payment_ was. He grinned and bared his dagger like teeth and grabbed the thug by the head with his clawed hand. The thug screamed and kicked as he was dragged into the lighthouse.

"I'll send you the details closer to the time." Penguin called as Waylon slammed the door shut. The only sound that could be heard from then on was terrified screaming, followed by a crunch and deathly silence.

When Madeline awoke for the second time, she found that her vision was not effected and she could see fairly clearly from the moment she opened her eyes. Sadly, that meant she could see the stranger standing over her in his protective gear as if she were contagious.

"Good morning my dear." The stranger said, a smile behind his mask. He had an assortment of needles and drugs on the metal table with him and Madeline turned pale when she spotted them. More needles, what would they do to her _this_ time.

"Good fucking morning to you to asshole." Madeline spat, trying to lift her arms. To her surprise she could actually feel them again. She was only able to flex her fingers very slowly, and her limbs still felt as heavy as lead but at least it was progress. The feeling in her arms however, did allow her to feel the leather wrapped around her wrists, holding her to the table. Sensing her sudden panic at the realisation she was restrained physically as well as chemically, the stranger went to sooth her.

"It's alright my dear. It is only a precaution. Not my idea I'm afraid, but the boss is the boss for a reason." He explained with a smile. Madeline didn't care for his explanation or his friendly attitude, she wanted out of there.

"Oh well I totally understand that!" She hissed, the sarcasm practically dripping from her tongue like acid. "By all means, make them tighter. I might just lunge and attack you if you're not careful, all 5, 2 of me."

"I understand your frustration, really, I do. I will have you untied soon I promise, but for now you have to stay down so you don't hurt yourself."

"And _then_ are you going to let me go?" Madeline asked, sounding almost hopeful that the answer would be yes, but she knew what the sombre expression on the stranger's face meant and bit her lip in frustration.

The stranger checked the vitals and recorded them for a while, and then gave Madeline a few injections that had no immediate effect on her. She didn't bother resisting, and the stranger was nice enough to give her a morphine injection so it wasn't all bad. Well, it was still pretty bad, borderline hellish, but at least she could be partially high for it.

"So what is in that stuff?" She asked rather cheerfully, the morphine quite pleasant in her system.

"A mixture of things. Mostly antibiotic agents to help with the last of the infection, and some other things to help strengthen your bones. Oh, and this one..." The stranger said, holding up a very long needle so Madeline could see. "...is to keep your body strong and healthy, that way you don't waste away into a skeleton."

"What infection?" Madeline asked, not sure how she'd gotten an infection. Well, she'd been dead so perhaps it had happened sometime during her vacation from life.

"When you... ahem... died. The way you died and the location you died were not the most hygienic of things." The stranger explained tactfully.

Madeline turned her head away and remembered. The jaws of a crocodile man and a sewer were certainly not the most sanitary of things. She didn't actually remember much about the moment she sustained the injuries, only what came after. The pain of her limbs being broken, and of course the agony of her lungs collapsing and the blood draining from her body, now _that_ was easy to remember. But she hadn't really focused on the pain at the time, she had been more concerned by Waylon who looked as if he was about to go mad upon seeing what he had done. She'd told him she didn't blame him for this, and she still didn't blame him, but she was a little angry with him for it. Yes he couldn't control it, he'd just been given earth shattering news that he was devolving, and yes there had been a thunderstorm and a lot of threat from the GCPD surrounding them. But Jesus Christ she was his girlfriend, she never actually believed he would lose it so much as to actually harm her.

She wondered what he was doing now. Was he still in Gotham or had he left already? Or was he dead? It could have only been a few weeks since she died, a month at most, so perhaps he was still alive and stalking around somewhere in the sewers. Most likely Killer Croc was in control and poor Waylon would hate himself for thinking he killed her.

"Does that hurt?" The stranger asked as he injected the big needle. Madeline shook her head and looked up at the ceiling.

"May I ask what you are thinking about?" The stranger asked, sounding genuinely interested. Madeline was at least thankful her captor wasn't a crazy madman torturing her every waking minute, or perhaps he was and the morphine was blocking all of that out.

"Just thinking about the guy that killed me." She sighed.

"He was your boyfriend right?" The stranger clarified, packing up his equipment. "There are worse people to be killed by."

"Oh yeah? Like who?" Madeline asked as the last needle, the one that put her to sleep was inserted into her veins.

"Like your employer. Finding out your entire plan was just a test for someone else is a horrible thing to die on."

Madeline looked at the stranger curiously as the anaesthetic was injected into her body. Was he saying that _he'd_ died at some point too?

"Who are you?" She asked drearily, the anaesthetic starting to take effect. "What's your name?" The stranger smiled as Madeline closed her eyes and all of her senses started to fall asleep, but her hearing was the last to go so she heard his reply.

"My name is Hugo." The stranger said, and then everything shut off again.

 **Gasp. Who keeps bringing all these dead people back to life? Poor Waylon suffers from nightmares of the day he 'killed' Madeline and honestly can't be bothered working (like someone else I know) What will happen next?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Waylon barked orders to the thugs hauling the crates and generally just bossed everyone about without doing any work himself. Yeah he was protection and could probably get the job done five times faster by himself, but it was kind of fun to play crime boss and have his own henchmen, even if it was only temporary. As he stood out the front and watched for police or spawn of Batman he remembered a time when _this_ was the kind of thing he'd planned on doing. Waylon had planned on becoming a criminal lord of Gotham, controlling the city from the shadows and making millions from gun and drug export. He had a kind of _Scarface_ scenario in his head, rising from nothing and burying his face in cocaine or something like that with an office covered in gold. Unfortunately, his devolution had started and rendered him too dumb to organise such an operation before he'd even had a chance to graduate from hired thug. Still, he had managed to obtain notoriety in Gotham through sheer brute strength alone, but at this point in time in his life he really wasn't bothered anymore.

"I'm getting too old for this." He grumbled, turning his back to the entrance and stalking back inside.

He examined the crates as they were moved into the back of the food delivery trucks, each one containing various different weapons of varying levels of destruction. Penguin had taken a fancy to very rare and deadly weapons in recent times, the kinds of things the government kept secret and only used on their worst enemies. How Penguin had gotten a hold of them Waylon had no idea, only that moving such valuable and dangerous weapons would certainly attract unwanted attention. What Waylon didn't understand why there was such a big call for weapons of mass destruction in Gotham. Batman was dead, who else warranted such a big arsenal. Perhaps Penguin was going to sell them to Russia or something.

Waylon glanced at the clock on the wall of the warehouse. It was 2 in the morning and he was getting board, they'd been at it since midnight. He checked the other entrances to the warehouse to make sure no one was sneaking in, the front door guarded by one of Penguin's henchmen, Bossworth, a black man wearing a steel mask that covered his nose and mouth. The roof top was guarded by Penguin's preferred body guard, Lark. A very slight woman with short black hair who somewhat resembled Catwoman but wore considerably less clothing as was Penguin's preference for her. Waylon would have preferred to be left to do the job alone, that way there was a higher chance of Nightwing or Robin who whoever else getting into the building and giving him a much needed fight.

The boredom was excruciating and Waylon was well aware of what happened when he was bored for too long. Boredom made him irritable, and when he was irritable he got angry very quickly, and when he got angry Killer Croc was the one who came out to play and slaughter everything in sight. Generally most emotions forced the monster inside of him to take over, but boredom was the worst because he could feel it creeping up on him. He paced around the warehouse and then back out the front. It was a rather chilly night but the air was still and made you feel like the ice was forming around you if you stayed in one place too long. The sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance but only one car so it was definitely going somewhere else. It was kind of surprising to hear the police so far into criminal territory considering the whole city was run by the big, the bad and the ugly.

"Tonight's a drag huh?" Lark said, appearing beside Waylon and almost giving him a heart attack. He glared at her and growled but the irritating woman just smirked at him.

"What's the matter big guy? Did I startle you?" She asked flirtatiously. Waylon ignored her and turned his attention back to his boring job.

"Aw, you're no fun." Lark whined, trying to get a rise out of him, anything really. She was probably bored too. Waylon wasn't even remotely interested in her attempts to be flirtatious or seem sexy, he honestly didn't care. Regular women didn't do it for him anymore, rendering his porn collection obsolete and leaving him with an itch he couldn't quite scratch. He didn't know whether it was just his mind becoming more monstrous or what. Perhaps he had subconsciously decided that Madeline had been the only woman for him and everyone else just looked like meat. Then again, he hadn't seen Madeline since that night and his mind was struggling to show him images of her. If she suddenly appeared in front of him again would he still find her attractive? Was he still into humans? Oh god, was he going to have to look up pictures of crocodiles or something, he hoped not.

There was suddenly the sound of yelling coming from the warehouse and they both spun around to see a man dressed in black and blue get the drop on one of the henchmen. Nightwing.

"You were supposed to be keeping a look out!" Waylon snarled at Lark who was certainly aware of the fact this was _her_ fault.

"Yeah yeah, let's just beat his ass and get the guns out of here." She grumbled, and shot into action. Bossworth came out from his guard post and opened fire on Nightwing who ducked behind cover just in time.

"Don't shoot in here, some of this stuff is highly volatile!" Lark yelled and Bossworth ceased his fire but didn't look happy about it. Waylon could help but smirk at little at the fact Nightwing had shown up, he'd wanted a fight and it seemed that Christmas had come early.

"Both of you get the guns out of here on the trucks and _don't_ let anyone follow you!" Waylon ordered, taking charge like he'd always wanted to. Penguin's body guards hesitated for a brief moment but did evntually obey the giant crocodiles commands. Lark slammed the door shut on one of the vans and leaped onto the roof as the van began to move, her dual pistols out and ready to go. Bossworth got into the driver's seat of the other and sped away before the doors of the van even shut properly, the thugs scrambling to get inside. One of the thugs shut the roller doors of the warehouse so Nightwing didn't have a direct escape route, not that Waylon was about to let the bat wannabe go anytime soon.

"Smuggling guns huh? Not really your thing croc." Nightwing said cheerfully, whipping out the two electric sticks he used before crashing them together to create an electrified staff. He knew Waylon was vulnerable to electricity, but that didn't mean the fight was going to be easy. Waylon snarled at Nightwing, the Batman sidekick had always been a pain in the ass. It wasn't because he showed up and caused trouble for the criminals of Gotham, it was because of all his cheesy one liners and cheerful attitude. How had the brooding Batman put up with him? Waylon was also irritated by the fact this guy was an acrobat which gave him unpleasant reminders of the circus.

Nightwing attacked first, running towards Waylon and leaping into the air and doing a back flip so he could use the momentum to hit Waylon on the back of the neck with the electrified staff. Waylon felt the small shock hit him and make his body tense up a little, but it was short lived as he spun around to grab Nightwing by the leg. He missed and by the time he turned around to grab the acrobatic Batman wannabe from the other side he received a hard kick in the face. Waylon felt the sting in his cheek as he jaw dislocated, but it didn't take long for the bone to reset. He hardly had to wait for his body to regenerate anymore, it was practically instant. What _wasn't_ instant anymore however, was his reaction timing, and before he had a chance to realise what was going on the staff came up from below.

"Batter up!" Nightwing called as his staff made contact with Waylon's lower jaw and send his head back in an uppercut swing. The impact wasn't _that_ great however, giving Waylon a chance to slash around and almost catch Nightwing with his claws. Now _he_ was on the offensive. He charged for Nightwing, opening his jaws to clamp down shut on the vigilante.

He backed Nightwing into a corner but the acrobatic nuisance ran up the wall and flipped backwards over Waylon's head. Waylon recognised the move as one of Batman's and had an idea. He quickly swung his tail around just before Nightwing landed and smacked into his side, sending Nightwing flying across the room and into the wall. The wall crumbled a little on impact and Nightwing groaned as he got back onto his feet. Waylon reached for one of the lifting trucks and hurled it across the room. Nightwing only just got out of the way before the truck crashed into the wall and consequently went _through_ the wall.

Nightwing had noticed that he was losing however, and had decided to leave the fight with Waylon for another time, making a run for the air vent in the side of the warehouse. He sprinted, ran up the wall and slipped into the vent with ease before Waylon could stop him. Not that it mattered too much, the vans were long gone by now. As much as Waylon wanted to stay and fight some more he could feel his body quiver for more of a fight. He wanted to lose control and tear Nightwing to pieces, hunt him down to the edge of Gotham and rip his stomach out through his mouth. But he knew if he tried to do that then he'd end up getting caught. The other Batman spawn were always close by and Waylon didn't fancy going back into Arkham. One more treatment from them would certainly speed up his devolution and render him a complete monster forever.

Hurrying out of the warehouse through the new hole in the wall Waylon clambered into the sewer system and stalked away from Nightwing's location. He couldn't go home just yet and he still had to go check that the weapons made it to their mark, but he couldn't do that until he was sure Nightwing wouldn't follow him. Waylon new a location deep into the sewer system of Gotham, part of the old city buried underneath the new and half submerged in water. Besides, he felt Killer Croc clawing at the inside of his skull, desperate to escape and wreak havoc. At least if he was down there he wouldn't have anything to kill and he could just wait out the savagery in peace and quiet.

Madeline's head was throbbing when she woke up again, and her immediate response was to pinch the bridge of her nose to try and make it stop. Sadly it didn't completely stop when she did so, but she did feel considerably better when she realised that her hands were no longer restrained and she could finally move her body again.

"Good morning." Hugo Strange said with a grin. He was standing next to the table Madeline had been lying on as per usual, the tray of needles and solutions in front of him. Madeline didn't care about morning pleasantries, she could move again! She could feel her arms and legs and wriggle her toes and even walk if she wanted to. But she didn't want to walk, she wanted to run. She spotted the door that Strange would have come through, located directly across from the foot of the table she'd been lying on so she hadn't seen it before. Desperate to escape she leaped to her feet and made a sprint for the door. However, her sprint was cut unbelievably short when her legs failed to hold her up and she collapsed onto the floor.

"Oh my dear. Are you alright?" Strange asked with great concern as he helped Madeline back onto the table. Madeline didn't know if Strange had noticed that she'd tried to make a run for it and was just pretending she'd fallen or thought she'd actually just fallen. She kind of hoped it was the latter but he seemed like an intelligent man so that was unlikely. She'd have to be crafty if she wanted to escape from where ever it was that they were.

"What's wrong with my legs?" Madeline whined, looking down at her useless limbs. Was she paralysed or something? No, she could still move them, they were just very weak.

"You haven't regained all of your strength yet. Give it time and you will be back to walking about in no time." Strange reassured, checking Madeline's legs for damage.

"And how long will that take?" She asked, swinging her legs back and forth to try and get the blood flowing.

"Shouldn't be much longer now. Do be patient my dear, we cannot rush these things. Remember, you did die."

"Yeah I remember." Madeline replied with a solemn look. She remembered it quite clearly, and she still didn't know exactly how she felt about the whole ' _Waylon killing her_ ' thing.

"You said that you died too. How did you die?" Madeline asked, trying to block the negative thoughts from her mind, not that discussing how Hugo Strange died was any more light-hearted. At least it wasn't about her for a change. All she knew about Strange was that he had been put in charge of Arkham City and then wound up dead, but no one really knew the details aside from Batman, and he was dead too.

"I was approached by a man with a plan to take over Gotham and defeat the Batman, so naturally I accepted." Strange explained very calmly, despite his words sounding like those of a super villain. He handed Madeline a cup of water and some pills. Madeline didn't bother to question what they were, at least they were giving her the illusion of free will.

"Why did you want to bring down Batman? I mean, I know he's an asshole but he did at least keep Gotham safe-ish." She wondered, she was being a little contradictory since keeping Gotham safe-ish meant locking up all the super criminals, such as Waylon, and she'd hated Batman for doing that.

"I wanted to _become_ Batman. My employer gave me the chance to do just that if I was able to bring Batman to his knees. Sadly, I lost. And to make matters worse my employer knew that I would the whole time. He'd expected it and engineered the whole plan to turn Batman into the perfect successor." Strange explained calmly once again, but there was a sharpness to his tone, as if he were trying his hardest not to scream and shout about the whole thing. Madeline certainly would if she were him.

"The perfect successor for what?" Madeline asked, getting more and more confused by the minute. "Who was your boss?"

The Head of The Demon." Strange said flatly, as if it were a common title such as Mayor or President. Madeline looked dumbfounded and shook her head.

"That just sounds like a really bad porno title." She grumbled, and Strange laughed rather heartily. He laughed so heartily in fact that he had to take off his mask so he could breath properly. Madeline could see his face a little better now. He had a beard that outlined his jaw which was surprisingly chiselled for a scientist.

"Indeed." He laughed, trying to get over the first joke he had no doubt heard in a long time. "In any case, my employer stabbed me right then and there with his sword and left me to die. In poor Bruce Wayne defence, he did try to save me, but he had other matters to attend to and was forced to leave me to die."

"So then how is that you are alive now?"

"The same way that you are alive."

"Well that's a big help thanks everything is so clear." Madeline growled sarcastically, crossing her arms and turning away as Strange went to inject her with something.

"I am not at liberty to tell you how they brought us back, only that they did, and that they have something special in store for you." Strange explained as the needle pricked Madeline's skin. Madeline felt a shiver go up her spine, but she wasn't sure if it was from the needle or from the prospect of this ' _something special_ '. What did they have planned for her? What _was_ this place?

"Can you at least tell me what this place does. A really vague description at the very least." Madeline begged. She wanted to have something to go off. Was this a government run facility, a private lab, a hospital or an asylum? What did they want with her. Were they just bringing people back from the dead to show that they could or did they have some ulterior motives. Were they making super soldiers, summoning aliens from another dimension. Pop culture had taught Madeline that anything was possible and that the government and secret organisations were batshit crazy.

"In good time my dear, I promise you. Right now however, I cannot tell you."

"Please! Just a hint then. Blink twice if its run by the government, three times for secret organisation, and four times for a dream. Is it all a dream? Tell me it's all a dream?" Madeline begged, but Strange just shut his eyes and turned his head away from her.

"Dr. Strange. Please remove yourself from Subject 3871's cell." An unfamiliar voice said over the speaker. No, not unfamiliar, it was the same woman from before. The one that seemed to call Strange out of the room whenever Madeline pestered him for answers. _She_ was the one who was in charge, Madeline just knew that had to be true. But what concerned Madeline more was that title. Subject 3871. Was that all she was to them. A subject number? So she _was_ being tested on. It had to be a secret government facility then. Strange hesitated, clenching his fists on the metal tray and resisting the urge to obey orders. The woman didn't seem to like this.

"Dr Strange, I am ordering you to remove yourself from the cell." The woman asked again, this time sterner than before if that was possible. She sounded like the rich mother in law you'd dread to meet for the first time because she'd be constantly looking down her nose at you. Strange didn't flinch but he looked to be fighting with himself. It was as if he didn't have a choice but he was trying to make one anyway.

Then, a small thing on the side of Strange's neck, buried beneath the skin, began to beep with a red flashing light. His face turned pale upon hearing it and he quickly picked up his tray and went to leave the room.

"Wait, don't go!" Madeline called, but no sooner was Strange out of the door when three new strangers dressed in hazmat suits came in. Madeline tried to resist but two of them grabbed her arms and held her down as they strapped her limbs back into the restraints.

"NO! LET ME GO!" Madeline yelled, but the third one jabbed a needle into her arm and she felt the hazy fuzziness come over her again. She was starting to black out again, and as much as she tried to fight it she could barely hold onto even the most remote shred of consciousness. She was able to hold on just long enough to hear the woman speak one last time as her head began to spin and everything else began to fade.

"Move her to a more secure cell and tell Langstrom he is now in charge of the case." The woman said over the speaker, and then everything went black.

 **Yes yes I know, filler is a bitch but it has to be done to flesh the story out a little and give us more to work on. Don't worry, Madeline will be up and about and bumping into Waylon once again, just give it time. But who is in charge of this place? Why do they have Hugo Strange and Langstrom under their control, and how do they have them under their control? Just forewarning you I came up with a seriously messed up and crazy plot twist for later so I hope you enjoy that when it happens. In the mean time we will have more of Waylon being all bored and depressed and generally a buzz kill, perhaps Riddler can cheer him up? Also Bossworth and Lark are actual Penguin body guards just FYI.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Waylon was not a morning person, and certainly not a day person. So when he was woken up at eleven in the morning by loud banging on the door of the lighthouse he was far from grateful. He growled as he dragged himself to his feet and stalked towards the door. Whoever was knocking on his door was dead meat. It didn't matter if it was Penguin or Twoface either, they knew better than to bother him in the day time. If it was another teenager come to gawk, he was going to eat them too, and if it was the GCPD, then he would fight them first and then eat them.

Snarling, he kicked the door open and roared at the person who dared wake him. He glared at the teenager standing before him, a boy maybe, late teens with curly brown hair and green eyes. He flinched, as would anyone, when Waylon kicked down the door and snarled in his face, but he didn't try to make a run for it, instead standing his ground. This was kind of weird but Waylon was not about to ask questions, he raised his hand to strike the kid down but again, the kid stayed vigilant and didn't move. Was he a messenger or something?

"Are you Waylon Jones?" The kid asked, and Waylon froze up. How did the kid know his name? Nobody knew his name, or bothered to use it at least. He peered down at this kid, he certainly didn't recognise him. He wore a winter coat since Gotham was so cold, but he seemed to have baggy pants on underneath and an ear piercing in one ear. Waylon was willing to bet the kid was wearing a basketball jersey on underneath the coat as well, typical white kid trying to be street.

"What the fuck do you want?" Waylon growled, scanning the area for anyone who might be lurking nearby to dart him or try and sneak up on him. It was the middle of the day and while it was still cold and overcast it was fucking bright. Waylon wasn't used to the daylight and being out in it hurt his head, and when his head was hurting he wasn't the most stable of people. What did this kid want, and how did he know Waylon's name?

"My name is Jack Hopper." The kid said, and it took Waylon a couple of seconds to realise the significance of that name. "Where is my sister?"

When Madeline woke up it felt like it had the first time, her head was spinning and she couldn't keep her eyes open. Everything hurt like hell, but this time she was able to move everything perfectly fine. She squinted through the bright light and tried to get a look at what was going on. She could only see for a few seconds before it became too much for her to handle, but she was able to make out the shapes of several people around her dressed in hazmat suits. None of them were Strange, at least they didn't seem to be, and all acted like she was dead on the table, not even acknowledging the fact that she was awake.

"Ready to begin with field test A?" The woman asked, but this time it wasn't from a speaker, this time she was stood right next to Madeline dressed in the hazmat suit. She hadn't really sounded like she was asking a question, more like she was prompting someone else to begin.

"Y-Yes." A stranger stuttered, a man, maybe middle aged and very nervous. Madeline felt a prick in her arm but it seemed to hurt ten times more than normal.

"What is that stuff?" She slurred, the words probably incomprehensible. "Get away from me!"

"Is everything in position for transfer to the target?" The woman asked another person. "And what about the chip. Has that been inserted yet?"

"Transfer is ready to go. Administering chip now." Yet another stranger said, and Madeline felt a sharp jab in the side of her neck as something was inserted. It hurt like a bitch but it was a brief pain. She wasn't that bothered about the pain. What was concerning her was all this talk about ' _field test A_ ' and ' _target_ '. What target? What was happening? What did they have planned for her.

"Administering gene activation dosage." The male stranger said, and Madeline felt another needle inject her skin with something. But this one felt different. They were injecting something into her blood stream that didn't feel quite right. It felt warm. Very warm. Boiling hot in fact, and the liquid, whatever it was, this ' _activation dosage_ ', seemed to spread around her body at an alarming rate. She could practically feel it travel through her veins and arteries, into her heart to get pumped up into her brain and down to her toes. Then the nausea set in and she wanted to vomit up all of her organs to get the stuff out, but she hadn't eaten anything since she'd been there so nothing would come. Then the burning sensation started to scorch her mind. Not her head, her mind. Her actual consciousness began to burn and everything seemed to make no sense anymore. She felt her body begin to shake and her bones crack, her skin tear and her mind spin. She wanted to scream she was in so much agony, but her head wouldn't tell her voice what to do. She could only writhe as she felt her body shift and change, the leather on her wrists and ankles become tighter and more uncomfortable.

She was panting now, hardly able to breath as her lungs seemed to press against her ribcage. Her mind was racing, unable to grasp onto a shred of sanity or logic. She wanted to thrash about but couldn't. She wanted to scream but couldn't. She wanted to slaughter everyone in that room but couldn't. She wanted to slam their faces into the floor, tear them limb from limb and break every bone in their body to leave them in a crippled bloody mess on the floor, organs splayed out and bleeding everywhere. Then, like a bolt of lightning, Madeline felt something shoot through her spine and up into her head, forcing her to arch her back as her eyes rolled back and everything went red.

 _Shit_ , Waylon thought as Madeline's little brother stood at his doorstep with a look of determination on his face. He'd come for his sister. His dead sister. His dead sister who had died at Waylon's hands. A death that had apparently not been passed on to the family, and now it was up to him to break the bad news. But why, it had been four years, why didn't they know she was dead already? Hadn't the Gotham morgue relayed the information? Madeline had that friend, Paula or something, hadn't she contacted Madeline's family or something to let them know? Then Waylon had a sudden horrible thought. Was there even a body for them to find? He didn't remember much about what happened after Madeline died but he was fairly certain he didn't eat her. Or had he? No, but if he hadn't eaten her, then why hadn't her body been found? Was it still lying there in the gutter, eaten by rats and left to rot. No, there was a funeral service for Cash and the other GCPD officers, they would have found Madeline's body among the slaughtered mess.

"Where is my sister?" Jack asked again, and Waylon instantly turned around and skulked back into his lighthouse. He couldn't even look at the kid. Now that he knew Jack was Madeline's brother he could suddenly see all the similarities in their faces, the eyes too, both were emerald green. It was painful to look at him, but telling him his sister was dead was most likely going to be more painful. But it had been four years, how had they not come looking for her earlier. Madeline wasn't really one for staying in contact with her family, but four years?

"Go home kid." Waylon urged, not turning to speak to the kid directly.

"Not without my sister." Jack demanded, moving forward to go into the lighthouse too. Waylon moved his tail to block the entrance and stop Jack in his tracks.

"Don't come in here." He warned with a snarl. It wasn't because he didn't like people invading his space, which he certainly didn't, but it was because the kid might freak out and jump to conclusions with all the bones lying around. Then again, what conclusion could he come too that was worse than the reality?

"I'm not leaving until you tell me where my sister is?" Jack demanded, trying to push Waylon's tail out of the way. Waylon did _not_ like that and spun around snap in the kids face, trying to scare him off again. The kid staggered backwards but didn't turn to run away. He just looked more determined than ever. Waylon sighed and stood in the doorway of the lighthouse, half bathed in shadow so he was not easily spotted from a distance.

"How much do you know kid?" He grumbled, willing to go along with this for as long as his sanity would allow. "How did you find me anyway?" Perhaps he could send the kid on a wild goose chase while he figured out what to do. No doubt Madeline would be pissed at him if she were alive to pass judgement on that decision, but she wasn't alive so he could do whatever he wanted. Heck, he could even eat her brother and think nothing of it. Surely he could. Could he?

"Maddy told me about you when she came home for a while a couple years back." Jack explained, taking out his phone to search for something on it. "Although she never mentioned you were an 11ft tall crocodile." The kid had tried to sound jovial but Waylon wasn't laughing. Noticeably disheartened that his attempt to seem light-hearted had fallen flat, Jack selected something on his phone and held it up for Waylon to see. Waylon peered at the tiny screen. It was a photo of Madeline and Jack somewhere out in the country, maybe down south back at their home, with the background bathed in yellow light and sandy dirt.

"Last time I saw her was six years ago." Jack explained as Waylon took the phone from him. "And the last time we had any contact with her was four years ago when she lived in Metropolis."

Waylon was only half listening to Jack, he was staring intently at the photo. He hadn't seen Madeline's face since he'd killed her, and even though he saw her in his nightmares he still couldn't picture her face completely in his mind when conscious. She almost looked like a different person, as if it wasn't really her in the photo. Seeing her face again made his chest hurt and his stomach churn with revulsion. Not entirely because he was seeing the face of the woman he'd loved and killed, but because he was seeing the face of the woman he'd loved so dearly and he didn't recognise her or feel anything towards her. What was wrong with him? Why didn't he feel his heart leap upon seeing her photo, or feel himself become aroused at the sight of her face. Was he really losing his attraction to her? Was this what happened when you were away from someone for so long, you lost your attraction to them? That didn't seem right though. He hadn't felt remotely interested in Lark when she'd tried her best to flirt with him. Was he really devolving to the point where he was no longer attracted to human women? To Madeline even?

"We're used to not talking to her for a long periods of time, but I went to visit her a few months ago for a surprise. I was going to thank her for the money she puts into my account every so often, but when I got there I found out she didn't live in that apartment anymore. I went to her work at the modelling place but they said that she'd quit four years ago and gone to get back together with her ex boyfriend in Gotham, which is why I am here. I want to see her."

Jack scowled at Waylon, as if he were hiding Madeline inside the lighthouse and forbidding her from seeing her family ever again like some psycho overprotective type.

"She's not here." Waylon muttered, handing the phone back. God what was wrong with him. Why didn't he feel anything when looking at that photo?

"Then where is she?" Jack snapped, a bit of Madeline's fiery stubbornness showing through. Waylon growled and gnashed his teeth together. This kid was not going to accept a half hearted distraction narrative, he would only accept the truth, and as much as Waylon didn't want to say it, he had no choice.

"She's dead." He said quickly and flatly, and awaited the outrage to follow, but it didn't. Jack just stood there staring at him, his lips pursed together before looking at the ground. He took a big sigh and clenched his fists before letting his body relax, as if the wave of anger had washed over him and disappeared.

"Did you kill her?" He asked calmly, still looking at the ground. This was freaking Waylon out a bit. Why didn't he scream or yell, swear vengeance or something, anything? Why was he so calm?

"Yes." He confessed, and again the kid didn't flinch or protest. He just stood there and stared at the ground in silence for quite some time.

"Why?" He asked suddenly, catching Waylon off guard.

"Because..." Waylon began, not quite sure how to explain it. "I can't control myself sometimes."

"Did you eat her?" Jack asked, and Waylon felt personally insulted that Jack suggested such a thing.

"No!" He snapped in protest, and Jack finally looked up again.

"Then where is her body?" He asked, now sounding a little more angry. Was that it? Was that was angered him most about all of this. Not that Waylon had killed his sister but that they hadn't received her body? What was with this kid?

"I don't know. I don't know what happened to her body." Waylon said, shrugging to try and shrug off the awkward anxiousness he was feeling. He didn't want to talk about this, it made him feel uncomfortable and sick to his stomach.

"We were never told that she had been killed so we never received her body to burry. Where would it be if not with us?"

"I don't know." Waylon sighed, really wanting to curl back up and sleep away this awful mix of feelings. This kid was really starting to annoy him.

"You have to find out for me." Jack demanded, and then Waylon felt his patience snap.

"I don't have to do anything." He snarled, quite fed up with the kid's attitude. He didn't want to remember or even think about Madeline's lifeless body, let alone go searching for it.

"You killed her, it's only fair that you find out what happened to her." Jack protested as Waylon tried to shut the door. Before Waylon could stop him, Jack slipped into the lighthouse and staggered into the open space of bones and dried up blood. His face turned pale and he began to quiver with fear. _There_ was that fear Waylon had expected earlier, perhaps the kid would leave now. He grabbed Jack by his shirt and dragged him back outside.

"Fuck off kid." He growled, and slammed the door shut.

But Jack would not be deterred so easily and started banging on the door.

"I'm not leaving until you help me find my sister's body!" He yelled, slamming his fists on the metal and causing the sound to echo around inside the lighthouse. Waylon couldn't put up with it for very long and stalked back outside, knocking Jack to the ground.

"Piss off!" He snapped, snapping his jaws very close to Jack to try and get the message across that the giant cannibal crocodile was not someone you pissed off.

"If you don't help me find my sister's body I'll tell the police you're living here and they'll come and arrest you." Jack threatened, and Waylon laughed at the pitiful attempt at blackmail.

"Then I'll eat you so you can't tell them." Waylon growled, licking his lips to give the impression he really would eat him. He certainly wouldn't eat Jack of course, that would just be weird.

"Don't you want to find out what happened to Maddy?" Jack asked, attempting to appeal to Waylon's sense of humanity, of which he had a very limit supply.

"Not particularly no." Waylon snarled, half lying half telling the truth. "She's probably just buried somewhere in an unmarked grave as a Jane Doe or whatever."

"But what if she's not!" Jack interrupted. "What if she's not buried. Or what if they did something else with her body?"

"Cremation?" Waylon suggested, getting very tired of this conversation.

"No! What if they said that they'd buried her but they actually hadn't and her grave is empty and her body is somewhere else."

"Is this some sort of conspiracy theory or something?" Waylon grumbled, raising what would have been an eyebrow if he had them.

"I've heard stuff about this before. Bodies being taken to be experimented on, turned into super soldiers or something." Jack explained, typing something into his phone to show feeble evidence. Waylon really couldn't be bothered with this, he had to get rid of the kid.

"You see this is why I don't use the internet." He grumbled, grabbing Jack by the arm and dragging him around the back of the lighthouse.

"Hey! Let me go!" Jack protested, dropping his phone as he was dragged to the edge of the island. He tried to reach back for it but Waylon just dragged him down a narrow path that lead to a ledge near the water's edge.

"Can you swim?" Waylon asked blankly as he checked the area for anyone watching. Why did he have to leave the island in the day time, it was too risky and too bright.

"Not really." Jack said, sounding confused.

"Well then you better hold on tight." Waylon warned, and grabbed Jack by the arm to toss him onto his back. Before Jack could realise what was going on Waylon dove into the water and Jack held onto the ridges on Waylon's back for dear life as they powered through the water at an alarming speed. Waylon was especially uncomfortable about swimming close to the surface of the water but he couldn't drown the poor kid.

Riddler was by no means happy to see Waylon again, most likely because the last time they'd been in the same room Waylon had tried to kill him. Waylon had been having a bad day and Riddler happened to be the only person nearby since he'd been living in Riddler's basement for a while. Needless to say Riddler had been somewhat traumatized by the whole thing and they hadn't spoken in about a year and a half. Naturally, Riddler made himself scarce when Waylon stalked with Jack into the Pinckney Orphanage. He appeared via the projector he had set up from his attempt to defeat Batman quite some time ago.

"What do you want?" He hissed from his projection, looking tired and not wearing green for once.

"I need you to do something for me." Waylon growled, not even looking at the projection and stalking straight through the door on the far left. He remembered where Riddler's secret office was, and it didn't take a genius to rip off the bookcase that concealed it.

"Is that The Riddler?" Jack asked as they walked past the projection that was protesting furiously at Waylon's disregard for privacy.

"Yep." Waylon muttered, and they stalked down the hall to the bookcase with the security panel hidden behind some stacked up books. Waylon banged his fist on the wall to the side of the bookcase, knowing full well Riddler could hear it.

"Open up or I'm ripping it off the wall." He warned with a growl and the bookcase almost instantly slid to the side.

Riddler's desire to keep his technology and gadgets intact far outweighed his desire to stay alive. Most likely because since Batman's untimely departure he had been left in a slump with nothing to do. Riddler certainly looked like he was in a slump, the poor bugger was even paler than usual and more gaunt looking. He kind of looked like his soul had been sucked out of his body and the lifeless skeleton left behind to wonder around aimlessly with an irritable face and a short temper. He also had a shotgun in hand aimed directly at Waylon's head. Waylon didn't flinch at the threat, bullets wouldn't kill him and even if they did, Riddler would be doing him and the world a big favour.

"What do you want?" Riddler hissed, glancing at Jack who seemed to be more interested in the technology behind Riddler than the gun in his hand. "Who's the kid."

"This is Madeline's little brother Jack." Waylon sighed, shoving the kid forward so he staggered into the secret room.

"And?"

"And I need you to look after him for a bit." Waylon explained, and as he expected Riddler shook his head violently in protest.

"Hell no! I am _not_ a babysitting service!" Riddler protested, trying to scare Waylon off by gesturing the shotgun in his direction but it failed to even make Waylon blink.

"I'm not a baby. I'm nineteen." Jack protested from inside the secret room as he looked around at the computer screens and diagrams that were littered across the place.

"You're still a kid, and get away from there!" Riddler snapped, going over to Jack and yanking him away just before he touched a fragile looking robot head sitting on the desk.

"Edward. Please. Just for a little bit. Until I can figure out what to do with him." Waylon begged as nicely as he could. Demanding Riddler to cooperate would not work well considering the nature of their last conversation.

"I don't care what you do with him. Kill him, eat him, drown him." Riddler suggested, turning all of his computer screens off so no one could see what he was working on. "Just get rid of him."

"I'm not going anywhere until I find my sister's body." Jack protested, shoving Riddler aside so he could go to the one computer that was still on. He slid into the seat and went straight onto the internet.

"Get off there!" Riddler snapped, dragging Jack and the office chair away from the computer.

"He's a conspiracy theorist." Waylon explained with a sigh. "He won't go away until he's certain Madeline is dead and not in some government facility or whatever else crazies think."

"Hey!" Riddler snapped, turning to Waylon instead of Jack who was slowly etching back over to the computer behind Riddler's back. "Don't knock conspiracy theories. The government is up to some shady business."

"Exactly." Jack chimed in, now on the internet again much to Riddler's dismay. "So we have to find out where they buried her so we can see for ourselves."

" _We_? There is no ' _we_ ', alright kid?" Waylon correctly sharply. "And _you_ are not going grave robbing."

"How else will we find out what happened to her?" Jack protested as Riddler kicked him out of the seat and sat down instead.

"I don't know. I can't be dealing with this right now." Waylon growled, turning around to leave.

"Woah woah woah. You can't just leave him with me." Riddler protested, getting up to run after Waylon who was already half way down the hall to the exit.

"Please Edward." Waylon grumbled, not trying to be nice anymore. "I don't like being up in the day time and this is too much for me to deal with right now. I'll come back and sort it all out later but right now I need to be alone." It was true, he was feeling his insides twist and turn as they craved human flesh. Killer Croc wanted to cause some mayhem but Waylon didn't want the next meal to include his old friend and his dead girlfriend's little brother. Riddler seemed to understand why Waylon was so eager to get away from them and sighed with defeat.

"Fine, but if you're not back by tomorrow morning I'm tossing him out." He warned. Waylon nodded in agreement and then skulked off back home, unsure on what he was going to do about everything.

 **What happened to Madeline? What will Jack's research uncover? What will Waylon do when he meets Madeline again. But most importantly, can Waylon even get hard for Madeline anymore? *gasp, cries in fandom*. All will be revealed in the next chapter as well as a host of new characters. Please leave a review and follow this story.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Work was irritating enough without the added weight of all that had happened that morning weighing down on Waylon lack a sack of bricks. What was he going to do about Jack? He had to get rid of him somehow. That wasn't even what Waylon was most concerned about though, he was more concerned about the fact he hadn't felt normal male _urges_ upon seeing that picture of Madeline. Was it guilt keeping his manhood from responding, or was he really losing his attraction to human women? He tried to arouse himself by glancing at Lark who was certainly dressed for male attention in tight leather pants and a low cut leather top. But he got nothing, nada, not even a light tingle. Oh god this was terrifying.

"You okay big guy. You look a little tense?" Lark asked, sauntering over. Waylon stared intently at her cleavage, willing his body to react how it should, but nope, nothing at all.

"Can we hurry this up. I don't want Nightwing showing up again." Waylon growled, turning his back to Lark and stalking over to the crates. He picked up two and quickly hauled them over to the truck and shoved them inside.

"What's the matter? Struggle last time did you?" Lark asked with her hand on her hip in a cocky manner. "You must be getting old."

"I'm only thirty four." Waylon growled, not happy to be referred to as old by anyone but himself. Thirty four wasn't old for criminal, heck, Penguin was pushing fifty and Twoface was certainly over fourty. Still, he felt old and just wanted to sleep all the time.

"That's like, super old." Lark teased, pouting mischievously. "You need to get married, have some kids and work a boring nine to five at that age." Waylon growled at her suggestion, mostly because it hurt to think about what could have been if Madeline hadn't lost the baby, or if Madeline hadn't died. Lots of _ifs_ that hurt to think about.

"Don't!" He warned, and hurled another box into the back of the van.

"Touch a nerve did I?" Lark pouted, moving closer and resting her hand on Waylon's chest. "I'm very good at that sort of thing." Waylon snarled at her more viciously than usual, even going to far as to snap at her. He would have bitten her head off if she didn't have good reflexes. Lark backed away, looking a little upset but also determined.

"Not. Interested." Waylon snapped, and returned to the crates. "Can we hurry this up? The less time we spend here the less likely we are to get interrupted!"

"Aw, but then we'd miss out on the party." A familiar and unwanted voice joked from above, and Waylon glanced upwards just in time to receive a kick to the face from Nightwing's boots.

Penguin's thugs scattered and quickly climbed into the vans to take off. Waylon wasn't sure if Nightwing was after him or after the weapons trucks but he was determined to keep the attention on him. Who knows, maybe they'd finally break the no kill rule. Before he could strike at Nightwing however, he felt something wrap around his wrist and something red flash past him. The red blur was apparently attached to the thing around his wrist because as it went past, Waylon felt his arm yanked along with it and smash into his face. He shook his head to regain focus and looked up just in time to see Nightwing come at him with the electric sticks in hand and smacked them into his face, knocking his head backwards to be knocked forwards again by Robin and slammed into the ground.

Waylon growled furiously and whipped his tail around to keep them at bay while he tried to regain control of his mind. Killer Croc wanted to come out and play, and Waylon's anger was rising with all the blows to the head.

"Come on, keep it together." He coaxed to himself. Two opponents meant he had to stay on his toes and keep his mind together. If it was just one or the other he could lose control and still win, but a team was far too tricky to just use brute strength against. He'd have to use his brain, which was becoming increasingly more difficult with each blow he took.

Robin was the first to try and attack, coming at Waylon from the side and rolling over his back and swinging the bo staff around and knocking Waylon's head to the side. Nightwing came charging in with the intention of electrifying Waylon's head with the two sticks but Waylon saw it coming and snapped his jaws, catching the stick in his teeth. The electricity was still running through them however, so he received a painful electric shock through his tongue and gums which felt considerably worse than normal. Not exactly using his brain very well was it? Forcing himself through the pain he clamped his jaws down and snapped the stick in half. Nightwing somersaulted away from him as he spat out the remains of the weapon, the acid from the batteries or whatever charged the thing vile on his tongue.

"Well, now we know he'll eat anything." Robin commented, appearing on Waylon's shoulder and hooking his bo staff under Waylon's neck. He pulled back hard, forcing Waylon's neck upwards so Nightwing could take a shot at Waylon's exposed neck. Waylon had fallen victim to this kind of attack before however, and put his hands up to grab hold of the staff and simultaneously block Nightwing's attack. He smirked as Nightwing's fist collided with the back of his hand and then yanked the staff forward, taking Robin along with it. Robin was forced to let go of his staff, which consequently allowed Waylon to snap it over his knee as if it were a mere twig.

"Well then, this isn't going according to plan." Nightwing joked as Waylon charged for them. They both leaped into the air, narrowly avoiding getting crushed in Waylon's jaws. What they didn't expect however, was Waylon's claws coming after them as they tried to get away, and Waylon managed to grab hold of Robin's leg.

He pulled down as hard as he could and Robin's face slammed into the concrete. The force was enough to knock him out in an instant. They needed thicker skulls if they were going to go up against him. Nightwing saw what was happening and tossed a smoke pellet at Waylon, hitting him in the face and blinding him momentarily. Waylon squinted through the smoke and tried to see what was going on. He had a feeling that Nightwing was going to use the smoke to attack him. Unluckily for him however, Waylon's hearing was superb and he could hear the fabric of Nightwing's clothes moving the clink of gadgets coming towards him from behind. He spun around and slashed with his claws, making contact with Nightwing's side and cutting through the fabric, sending the bat wannabe flying like the rodent itself.

The smoke cleared and Waylon spotted Robin on the ground, still unconscious. Finally, he could eat one of the Batman's annoying brats. He stalked towards Robin, Nightwing too far away to make to them in time. He reached down and grabbed Robin by the arm, holding his up in the air. Before he could take a victorious bite however, something rope like wrapped around his neck and yanked him backwards a little. It wasn't enough force to pull him over, but it was enough to make him drop Robin and give Nightwing enough time to swoop in grab his friend. Once they were in the clear the rope around Waylon's neck unravelled and recoiled to its owner. Waylon spun around to snarl at Catwoman, clad in her leather jumpsuit and cap with cat ears, her whip back on her hip as she smirked.

"Thought you boys could use a hand." She smirked. Waylon roared and tossed the closest object to him, which happened to be a crate, towards the cocky cat.

As expected she avoided it and twirled up into the air and onto the rafters. Catwoman was fast and nimble, and as silently as a thief in the night she slipped out of the open window she had crawled in through. Waylon spun around to see Nightwing and the unconscious Robin slip out through an open latch in the roof.

"Oh no you don't." Waylon growled, and charged outside to spot Nightwing using his grappling hook to hurtle off into the distance. Waylon was determined to eat at least one of Batman's buddies that night and charged after them.

He had to keep them in sight so he was forced to run on the surface through the streets. Oncoming cars honked and swerved to avoid him but most failed to do so. He bashed them out of the way with a sing swing of his arm, keeping his eyes up on the sky where Nightwing and Robin attempted to escape. They were slowed due to Robin's unconsciousness, and that was the only reason Waylon could keep up with them. They were also unable to glide across the night sky like Batman did because of this so they were forced to grapple from building to building at a rather pathetic speed.

"I got you now." Waylon growled to himself with triumph when Nightwing's grapple swung low and forced them to land. Robin had regained consciousness but was still injured so they hobbled towards the closest building in a bid to lose Waylon inside. It was an Avery, a new one, build in central Gotham entirely out of glass. Not a very sound building material for such a high crime area. Another useless expense to make the city seem more cultured.

Nightwing and Robin stopped at the front door, glancing back as Waylon came charging towards them on all fours. He had them now. Nightwing looked to be putting something on the hinges of the door and then took a step back, holding Robin up with his free hand. He appeared to press something in his hand and then there was a small bang and the door fell forwards. They slipped inside and Waylon snarled with irritation. The inside of the Avery was a tropical jungle, they could easily escape him in there. He'd tear the whole place apart if he had to. He'd find them and he would kill them, no one was escaping him today.

He put his arms up to shield his face as he charged through one of the glass windows. The glass shattered and some shards pierced his skin but he just shrugged them off as if they were flecks of dust. The birds scattered upon the intrusion, the loud squawking making it difficult to pin point the location of Nightwing and Robin. He listened carefully and sniffed the air but all the bird shit, humidity and squawking made it nearly impossible. _Nearly_ _impossible_. He heard the sound of breathing, the laboured breathing of the injured Robin nearby. He had him. Waylon got low and skulked towards the source, staying silent as he crept through the undergrowth. They weren't the only ones who could be stealthy. As he drew closer in silence, the panicked birds went quieter and he could hear Robin and Nightwing more clearly. They were standing only a few feet away from him, not doing very well at hiding as every so often they moved a little and made a sound, the crackle of leaves or the scuff of dirt.

At least this night wasn't going to be a total waste of time. He was going to get to feast on two heroes and perhaps get a little more respect from the other criminals in Gotham. He stalked closer now, practically inches away. He could see flashes of movement through the thick leaves. Now was his opportunity. He dug his claws into the dirt to get more leverage and then pushed away from the ground, claws outstretched and jaws open to catch the two heroes in his teeth.

Only he didn't get the drop on Nightwing and Robin, instead something else was lurking in the undergrowth and spun around to slash at his face, cutting through his leathery skin and knocking him to the side with great force. Waylon crashed to the ground and had to give himself a second to comprehend what had just happened. What the hell had enough power to knock _him_ to the ground? The sting in his cheek from the gash was deep and he felt a bit of blood trickle from the scars. Before he could get a glimpse of the thing however, it scurried off into the undergrowth and disappeared. Waylon sat there, bewildered and defeated in the middle of the Avery, birds screeching around him and the sound of police sirens in the distance. What the fuck?

When Madeline came too she was strapped down to a table again, her wrists and ankles bound by leather. Only this time the table was moving, the ceiling above her racing by and a few people in hazmat suits in her peripheral vision. Her head hurt really badly, as did the rest of her body. She felt like she had just gone toe to toe with a freight train. One of the people made themselves more visible and stepped to Madeline's side so she could see them better. Madeline couldn't see who it was because of the suit, but she had an inkling it was the woman.

"Just thought I'd let you know that field test A was a success. You performed very well, all be it a bit quick for my liking." The woman said in her prudish, snobby voice.

"What the fuck are you talking about." Madeline groaned, glaring at the woman as they turned a corner. The woman didn't answer Madeline's question and instead looked forward to where they were heading.

"We are placing you in the long term holding cells. I hope it is to your liking as it will be all you see for quite some time." The woman explained, and then slowed down so she dropped out of Madeline's sight.

"Long term? What are you... Hey! HEY!" Madeline yelled as the woman slipped out of vision. "What is going on? What did you do to me? Give me answers god damn it!"

The table came to a stop and Madeline felt the restraints being loosened. Before she could break free however, she was being picked up and carried into a small cell that was no bigger than a bathroom. They dumped her on the bed and quickly removed themselves before Madeline could get up. The glass door shut behind him and when Madeline got to her feet she buckled over again onto the floor. Helpless, she crawled to the glass and banged on it as hard as she could.

"LET ME OUT!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, her eyes burning as they started to swell with tears. The people in hazmat suits walked out of sight and Madeline was left alone.

She wasn't completely alone though. She looked up and saw the roes of other identical cells in front of her and alongside her. All were small with a glass door to remove all privacy. Madeline peered at each of the cells, each one containing a person. Some looked human enough, such as the man sitting in the cell across from Madeline's hunched up in a petrified ball. Some however, were not human looking at all, like the one in the cell two cells down from the man, a woman with pale blue skin and hair like bolts of electricity, or the one next to her, a bulky man with red skin and wild black hair. What the hell was this place.

"Don't bother trying to escape. They have this place locked down tight." A stranger's voice said from the cell next to Madeline's. Madeline crawled to the edge of her cell and pressed her ear against the wall.

"Hello?" She called desperately. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes Adele I can hear you." The stranger spat, clearly bitter. Who wouldn't be bitter, they were locked in tiny cells somewhere far from all hope and just down the road from hell.

"My name is Madeline." Madeline said, desperate to make a connection with someone. She needed someone to talk to, someone who wasn't jabbing her with needles and knocking her out every five minutes.

"Who are you?" Madeline asked after the stranger didn't reply. There was hesitation, as if the stranger was thinking over his response. Then he finally spoke.

"Jason." He said plainly, but his tone _had_ softened a little bit. Madeline couldn't help but smile at the fact she had someone to talk to, a fellow captive, a friend perhaps?

"Jason. Where are we? Who are these people?" Madeline asked, propping herself up against the wall.

"I don't have a fucking clue." Jason grumbled. Madeline heard the sound of the mattress strain as Jason sat down. "Government perhaps. A private sector, which one I have no idea."

"Private sector?"

"Yeah, the kind of ' _off the books_ ' government job that makes people disappear. Welcome to the magical land inside the magicians box."

Madeline sighed and looked up at the ceiling. The light was a flat panel so she couldn't kill herself with the light bulb if she wanted to.

"So how did you die?" Madeline asked casually, that being the only topic of conversation they'd have in common.

"How'd you know I died?" Jason asked, sounding concerned but intrigued.

"Well I died and they brought me back to life, hence why I'm here. They brought Dr Strange back to life to so I'm assuming everyone here is dead too." Madeline grumbled. She really wanted a bottle of cheap wine to drink herself stupid with.

"I did die yes. But that was way before I was thrown in here. A lot of the people here weren't resurrected either, like Lonnie over across from you."

Madeline glanced over at the man huddled in a ball. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, thin, kind of shortish with brown hair.

"He looks a wreck." Madeline said casually, not daring to consider what _she_ must look like. She hadn't seen a mirror in a long while.

"He's been in here for a long time. Was in a juvenile detention facility before, locked away for trying to blow up Gotham. At some point in time they threw him in here and he's been here for a good ten years at least. Damn near gone insane." Jason explained, sounding sympathetic to the man's case but it wasn't _that_ genuine. He sounded cold, as if he didn't care about anything anymore, as if he had given up on all that was good in the world. He sounded like someone who had been betrayed.

"But why. Why is _he_ here? Why are any of us here? How are we special?" Madeline asked, trying to figure out the significance of it all. If there were non-humans here then it had to be some sort of super soldier factory or something. But why pick the people that they did. Was it random or was there some sort of specific criteria.

"I dunno. Can you think of anything that makes you special?" Jason suggested. Madeline thought for a while. She was a stripper from a redneck town down south who'd lived in Gotham before becoming a model in Metropolis. Nothing special there, the only thing in her life that was out of the ordinary was her taste in men.

"I fucked a crocodile." She said casually. There was silence from Jason, followed by laughter in disbelief.

"What?" He gasped, thinking he misheard her.

"You know Killer Croc? Yeah, he was my boyfriend for a while." Madeline said nonchalantly, as if she were discussing the weather. "Maybe that's why I'm here."

"The giant cannibal crocodile guy?" Jason clarified, still not believing her. Madeline laughed, it did sound funny when you put it like that.

"Yep."

"Why?" Jason asked, this time sounding genuinely interested.

"Because. He was a bad boy with a tragic back-story and the whole ' _the world hates me and it turned me into a monster_ ' narrative. Girls love it when a wild guy can only be tamed by them."

"And did you tame him?"

Madeline didn't respond straight away, she sat in silence for a bit, her hand on her scared stomach from where Waylon's teeth had pierced her side. God she missed him. Was kind of pissed off at him but damn did she miss him.

"Madeline?" Jason asked again, sounding concerned. Madeline shook her head to get rid of the tears that wanted to swell in her eyes. She couldn't think about that right now, there were more important things to deal with.

"Yeah?"

"Was he the one who killed you?" Jason asked, and Madeline smiled to herself.

"But of course." She said, almost laughing at the irony. She wasn't the person to tame him after all.

"Do you hate him for it?" Jason asked, sounding as if he had been in a similar situation himself. Madeline shook her head for her own benefit.

"No." She said, and could practically see Jason's surprise.

"Why not?" He asked, unable to comprehend the idea that Madeline didn't hate Waylon for killing her.

"Because I love him."

 **What was in the Avery? How powerful is it? What was field test A? And who is this 'Jason'? I'm guessing if you guys are Batman nerds you'll know who Jason is anyway.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The gash on Waylon's cheek was not healing as fast as it normally did, it was too deep and ran the risk of getting infected. The only person who could possibly give him some first aid was Riddler, but going to him meant dealing with Jack again and he really didn't feel like arguing with a nineteen year old about his dead sister.

"You owe me a new phone." Jack accused the minute Waylon slumped down on the couch. Riddler rolled his eyes and brought out the medical kid, placing it on the table and producing a few dozen packets of alcohol wipes.

"I don't owe you anything." Waylon grumbled, scowling at Jack. Judging by Riddler's facial expression, Jack had been irritating him too.

"I _need_ a phone. I can't get onto the internet without it, and _he_ won't let me go on his computer." Jack hissed, pointing at Riddler who just rolled his eyes.

"I won't let you on there because there are highly sensitive programs and top secret projects you might _mess_ with."

Waylon let Riddler dab the gash with the alcohol wipe on the end of a pair of tongs, the sting a little irritating but somewhat satisfying as it did its job. He was still a little confused as to _what_ exactly had attacked him, and how powerful it must have been to knock _him_ down.

"Any clue as to what did this?" Riddler asked, swapping out the old swab for a new one for the next gash. Waylon shrugged and growled with defile.

"It kind of looks like a claw mark. You didn't gash yourself did you?" Riddler suggested, and Waylon shot him an irritated glare.

"I didn't slash my own face." He grumbled. Riddler pulled out a gauze to apply to Waylon's cheek but Waylon refused it. He wasn't going to be seen wearing a damn plaster on his face.

"I'm just trying to help." Riddler groaned, taking the first aid box away. "So what kind of creature lurks around in an Avery?"

"A giant bird." Jack suggested, but Waylon shook his head.

"Na. It was on the ground when I was stalking up to it. I thought it was Nightwing and Robin."

Jack's face lit up upon hearing the two heroic vigilantes names and Waylon remembered that Jack was probably a supporter of the good guys.

"You were hunting Nightwing and Robin?" Jack clarified, sounding ecstatic at the prospect.

"Yep." Waylon said with an evil grin. "I was going to eat them too, came damn near close."

"You're getting old." Riddler said nonchalantly. Waylon threw his hands in the air.

"Seriously, what is it with everyone saying that I'm old. Thirty four is _not_ old."

Riddler returned to his desk to do something on the computer, and from what Waylon could see he was trying to look up different types of giant birds to find out what could have been lurking in that Avery. In the meantime Jack hovered around, clearly still irritated about his phone. Waylon sighed at the kids obvious attempts to convey how irritated he was with his arms folded and sighing loudly a little too frequently. It was irritating, and Madeline's brother or not you did _not_ irritated Killer Croc. Instead of getting angry and violent however, Waylon half growled half sighed as he got to his feet.

"Kid, just buy yourself a new phone. You have plenty of money for it." Waylon suggested as he walked past Jack.

"How do you know about the money?" Jack asked. Waylon remembered that Jack thought the money was coming from Madeline when in reality it was coming from all the odd jobs that Waylon did in Gotham. He couldn't be bothered explaining it to Jack, the sun was rising anyway and he wanted to go home and sleep for a bit.

"Go home kid." Waylon grumbled as he opened the door to leave.

"I'm not leaving until I find out what happened to my sister." Jack protested, running past Waylon and blocking the exit. It wasn't like he could really stop Waylon from leaving, but never the less Waylon stopped.

"What are you going to do if you can't find her body huh? Go searching for an underground government facility or something?"

"If I have to." Jack stated confidently, and his enthusiasm made Waylon grunt a laugh.

"Good luck with that." He grunted, and pushed the kid to the side and left through the front door.

Jack would not be deterred so easily and ran outside after Waylon down the steps of the orphanage.

"Don't you want to know what happened?" Jack asked, running in front of Waylon again but jogging backwards as Waylon refused to stop for him again.

"Not particularly no." Waylon snarled, getting rather irritated with all of this. Madeline was dead, end of story, and the location of her _dead_ body was not something Waylon was particularly interested in. Mainly because if there was no location he might have to face the reality that he actually _ate_ Madeline's corpse. He might just go insane if that was the case.

"But what if she's not dead. What if she'd alive somewhere and needs our help." Jack suggested, sounding like he was pleading now. Waylon growled in disapproval at the idea. If Madeline was alive, he didn't want to find her either. She'd hate him for killing her, and he didn't want to see the woman he once loved curse his name and damn him to hell. Well, he was already in hell so it couldn't get much worse could it?

"Look kid. You can search for her all you want but you won't be getting any help from me." Waylon warned, stepping past the kid to the water's edge and deliberately knocking him down with a light swing of the tail.

"But she loved you and you killed her. Don't you at least owe her enough to find out what happened." Jack yelled as Waylon slunk into the water. Waylon didn't give a response, and disappeared into the black waters of the Gotham River.

Madeline didn't sleep very well on the hard mattress in her cell. It was kind of nice to sleep when she wanted and not at the hands of injections and whatever else, but at least she'd been able to sleep on a hard metal table when anaesthetics were involved. She had no idea how much time had passed since they'd put her in the cell. It felt like forever, but knowing her luck it would have only been a few hours. Jason was asleep, she could hear light snoring from the cell next to her, and a few of the others were curled up on their beds. Accept for Lonnie of course, he was still curled up in a ball looking petrified. She glanced down the hall at the other cells, making up stories for each of them to pass the time. A few people in hazmat suits came in every so often and took someone away only to bring them back a few moments later. No one protested or tried to escape, no doubt tired from all previous failed attempts.

She watched carefully as a few scientists walked into the room in lab coats and masks rather than the whole hazmat suit look. She recognised one of them to be Hugo Strange, but the others didn't look familiar. One was quite a large man who seemed to walk with a pompous stride, while another walked hunched over, very lanky with grey hair and tired, traumatized eyes. The third was tall and lanky as well, but seemed to have strange skin behind his mask and safety glasses, as if he'd undergone facial reconstruction surgery gone horribly wrong. They were an odd collection of scientists, and didn't seem to like each other's company as they walked from cell to cell with clipboards in hand. It kind of looked like a doctors round at a hospital.

"Who did you get?" Jason asked, his sudden communication surprising Madeline a little.

"I did have Strange before when I was in the padded room, but they said they were moving some guy named Langstrom to my case." Madeline explained, trying to figure out which one of the scientists was this _Langstrom_.

"Lucky." Jason said, sounding somewhat envious. "Langstrom does everything fairly straight forward. If it's going to hurt, he'll give you a painkiller. If you need to be unconscious, he'll knock you out. Professor Pyg doesn't provide such luxury, and Crane just tortures you for fun."

"Subject 1936, Lonnie Machin," The deformed scientist announced, reading of his clipboard in front of the curled up man's cell. "Yesterday's strain of psychological aggravators had little to no positive effect. Scheduled for new strain at 1900hrs." Lonnie's head shot up when he heard the time and quickly began to clamber at the glass door.

"No! Please! I don't want to do that again! No more tests! Its driving me crazy." He pleaded, but the scientists just ignored him and moved on. Lonnie slumped back down into the corner and seemed more messed up than ever, slowly rocking back and forth as he whispered to himself. He really had gone crazy.

"Which one is Professor Pyg?" Madeline asked, as the scientists moved to another cell.

"The big guy. He plays horrible opera music when he does the experiments and tests." Jason explained. "And Crane is the freaky looking one. You've heard of scarecrow right?"

"Seriously? That's scarecrow?" Madeline gasped. She'd heard of him of course, he'd tried to take over Gotham not too long ago and was the reason Batman was dead. The news reports had informed the public that Scarecrow had been reduced to a whimpering, quivering wreck, but this man seemed perfectly fine, all be it deformed beyond repair.

"Subject 3256, Jason Todd. Next physiological evaluation due in two days, nothing scheduled for today." Dr Strange announced as they stood before Jason's cell.

"You sure you don't want to pump me full of fear gas again." Jason coaxed, directing his attention to Scarecrow who just frowned with disappointment at Jason. "See if you can break me!"

"You were never as good as him and you never will be. You should have thought more carefully before you betrayed me." Scarecrow spat, crossing his arms and walking away to the next cell, to Madeline's cell. Madeline shuffled backwards and pressed her back against the wall, trying to get as far away from them as physically possible. They peered into her cell and stared at her as if she were a rat in a cage.

The lanky one, Langstrom, held up his clipboard to read of the chart.

"Subject 3871, Madeline Hopper. Field test A commenced yesterday with positive success. Next test scheduled for 2300hrs tonight. Subject is to be transferred to test location _before_ activation dosage is administered due to transfer difficulties experienced on route to field test A location. Subject..."

"Hey!" Madeline interrupted, getting fairly sick of all the scientific mumbo-jumbo. "I wanna know what's going on. Why are we here? What the hell did you people do to me yesterday." Langstrom glanced at her but ignored her protests.

"Subject is to receive a stronger dosage of the solution so the effects are prolonged for further observation..."

"HEY! I'm talking to you!" Madeline snapped, going up to the glass to bang on it with her fists.

Professor Pyg seemed to reach for something on the side of the cell and then Madeline felt a sudden jolt shoot through her, sending her flying back and crashing into the wall. It took her a moment to regain some brain function after that, her head spinning around like she'd just been on a supersonic merry-go-ride.

"You are only supposed to do that in an emergency." Dr Strange scolded, yanking Professor Pyg's hand away from the controls.

"She was being disruptive." Pyg argued, even going so far as to ' _oink_ ' at the end of his sentence. He certainly took the name seriously.

"You know the effect that electroshock has on the gene activation, and yet you still insist on being a sadist!" Strange snapped, gesturing to Madeline who had managed to get back up onto the bed.

"Why do you care. She's not your subject anymore." Pyg argued, shooting Langstrom a horrible glare as if he were bullying him into backing him up. Langstrom quivered and took a step back.

"Yes but... Hugo is right. The electroshock will interfere..." Langstrom argued pitifully, but he was silenced by Pyg's disinterest.

"I don't understand why your research is even being funded." He exclaimed, his nose in the air like a stuck up aristocrat. "Why spend time making horrible creatures when you could make everything _perfect_?"

"Because we have ambition, not derangement." Strange added, and received a most horrible scowl from Pyg.

"I've had enough of this." Scarecrow growled, pushing past them all and walking towards the exit. "If you need me I will be conducting my experiments in my lab." Langstrom hesitated for a moment, but then he too shuffled off to check on his subjects alone. Pyg turned on his heel like a real prima donna and stalked off to check on his subjects and no doubt zap them some more. Strange was the only one left standing outside of the cell and he stood there for quite a while, his fists clenched tight. Madeline crawled up to the glass again and hesitantly rested her hands on the glass again.

"You okay Strange?" She asked. Okay, he was a supposedly evil scientist who worked for a secret government facility or something, but he had been nice to her when she was in his care, and in this place she figured if she were to develop Stockholm syndrome then Strange would be the slightly nicer alternative than Pyg or Scarecrow. Strange didn't respond to her but he did hear her and seemed to be comforted by it. Then, he strode off down the hall and out of the doors.

Once all the scientists were gone Madeline heard Jason let out a big sigh. The coast was clear.

"So what's with you and Scarecrow?" Madeline asked, settling down on the floor with her feet up against the wall. Jason didn't reply straight away, but he eventually sighed with defeat.

"You remember Scarecrow's plan to take over Gotham not too long ago? With the fear toxin and everything?" Jason asked, and Madeline nodded. It took her a second to realise that Jason couldn't see her nodding.

"Yes." She added hastily, a little embarrassed at her own stupidity.

"You remember the Arkham Knight?"

"Yeah. Wannabe Robo Batman or something like that?" Madeline replied, and she could have sworn she heard Jason curse.

"Well. That was me." Jason confessed, and Madeline did a double take.

"Wait. That was you? You were the Arkham Knight?" She gasped, getting into a kneel to stare at the wall as if Jason was sitting right in front of her.

"Yep. I was Robin for a while too." Jason added, and Madeline couldn't believe the bombshells coming out of his mouth.

He was the Arkham Knight? _And_ Robin? Wow, training from the Batman himself, no wonder Batman had eventually lost. Madeline was quite surprised that her new cell buddy was so notorious, but it did raise more questions. Like why was the Arkham Knight in some government facility being tested on by mad scientists?

"So you turned evil one day or..." Madeline asked casually, trying to get some information out of Jason. He seemed like the type to have a lot of secrets. Well, it came with the job didn't it?

"Ha. Not quite." Jason laughed, and Madeline heard him moving about in the cell. "I died."

"Ah, that'll do it I suppose." Madeline joked.

"Well not entirely true. I didn't turn on Bruce because I died, or because he _failed_ to save me." Jason explained, sounding very bitter all of a sudden, and with good reason. "And it wasn't because Joker tortured me before he killed me."

"Then what was it?"

Jason sighed very heavily and was silent for a good few minutes. Madeline thought he had decided not to talk to her and was about to open her mouth to speak but then Jason replied.

"It was because after Joker tortured and killed me, and sent the tape of it to Batman... Bruce never... he didn't _kill_ him."

Madeline sat and thought about it for a bit. If she were in Batman's position she would have gone wild with rage and torn Joker limb from limb for killing her sidekick. But Batman hadn't done that. He'd let Joker live, time and time again after more and more monstrosity and more and more carnage. How many people died at Joker's hand because Batman wouldn't break his ' _no kill_ ' rule. He could have compromised at least, maybe left Joker paralysed or mentally disabled. But to let the murder of your sidekick live when you had the strength to exact vengeance on them, that was just unbelievable.

"So you wanted revenge because Batman didn't get revenge?" Madeline clarified.

"I dunno what I wanted. I guess I wanted to make him suffer. But, I don't know how much of that was down to Scarecrow pushing me." Jason confessed, sounding like he was disappointed in himself.

"If you don't die a hero you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." Madeline muttered to herself. It wasn't quite quiet enough though.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just a good quote from a movie I watched a while back." Madeline sighed, deciding to switch the tone. "So what were they arguing about anyway, other than shocking me?"

"Well each one has a specific area of research, and like all scientists they think _their_ area of research is more important than the other." Jason explained. Madeline heard him moving about again and then listened closely to what could only be the sound of Jason doing push ups.

"What are their areas?"

"Well. Scarecrow is psycology of course, he does all the mind manipulation experiments and psychological torture. That's why he's got Lonnie. Pyg does surgery. He used to be obsessed with making people perfect but has since been given specific jobs at this facility, hence why he's so grumpy all the time. Strange is in charge of medical care and bringing the dead back to life, but I don't know what he'd rather be doing since he clearly doesn't like his job here."

"Yeah. I noticed he had something in his neck that made him do whatever that _woman_ told him to do." Madeline added, remembering the red light beneath the skin and the beep that followed.

"Probably a small explosive or something. I remember hearing something about the government toying with the idea of controlling dangerous criminals with explosive microchips but I don't think it ever got funding."

"Ooh, that sounds like a really bad movie plot line." Madeline giggled, trying to imagine what that kind of movie would be like. "With a giant beam of light into the sky, just like all movies nowadays. So what about Langstrom?"

"Pardon?"

"Langstrom. What area of research does he do. Pyg said something about ' _making horrible creatures_ '?" Madeline asked, quite curious as to what _her_ scientist had planned for her. Perhaps she could figure out what they did to her with the ' _gene activation_ ' and ' _field test A_ '.

"I'm guessing its some sort of genetic manipulation or something." Jason suggested. "He did turn himself into a giant bat so maybe he's making an army of giant bats."

"A what now? A giant bat?" Madeline exclaimed.

"A giant bat." Jason clarified, sounding a little amused at the concept as well.

Madeline got up from the floor and hopped back onto the bed, lying down with her hands behind her head to stare up at the ceiling. She certainly hoped Langstrom wasn't turning her into a giant bat as well, that would not be a good look for her. But if not that, what other kind of genetic manipulation was Langstrom up to. Was it little stuff or was he trying to turn people into monsters like giant bats. Madeline's thoughts drifted to her own giant monster, what was he doing now?

 **So now we have a little insight into the facility Madeline is being held at as well as Pyg, Strange, Langstrom and Crane. Is Madeline being turned into a giant bat or something else, and what possible connection could whatever she is being turned into have with the creature Waylon ran into at the Avery. Also props to anyone who can figure out my big reveal for Lonnie, its an unknown narrative in the DC universe but I'm sure you can figure it out, something to do with the mind. Please leave a review and I will endeavour to get the next chapter up soon, and I'm sorry about the lack of Madeline and Waylon interaction, that will come soon.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

A growing trend in Gotham seemed to be waking Waylon up in the middle of the day to make him do stuff and leave his lighthouse. This time the rude awakener was Riddler, the one person who should know better, knocking on the door at nine in the morning with some video on his cell phone to show Waylon.

"You know I don't feel _that_ bad about trying to kill you. Keep pissing me off and I might try it again." Waylon warned half heartedly as Riddler barged into the lighthouse. He didn't stay inside very long and quickly shuffled back out. He looked very agitated and rigid all of a sudden, as if he had just witnessed the most horrible thing in all of creation. Waylon couldn't figure out if it was the pile of bones or just the mess in general, both could make him equally as irritated.

"The mess..." He began, not even looking at Waylon he was that disgusted. Yep, that was it, his OCD outweighed everything else, even basic humanity. Riddler was weird.

"Then don't go in there." Waylon grumbled, standing in the doorway so Riddler couldn't see or complain about it anymore. "Now what do you want?"

"I _thought_ this might interest you." Riddler announced, swiping on his smart phone to bring up a video on some news channel. Waylon peered at it. It seemed to show the inside of a jewellery store, only the place was a total wreck. The voice over news reporter was talking about an act of vandalism, accompanied by different shots of the wrecked jewellery store with necklaces, rings and bracelets scattered all over the floor, the glass cases smashed and the safe ripped open.

"And..." Waylon said, looking to Riddler to explain _why_ he was showing him this.

"Keep watching." Riddler coaxed, swapping arms to hold up the phone. Waylon rolled his eyes and continued to watch the news report.

"The CGPD have identified a familiar pattern in the destruction as well as found evidence of claw marks on and inside the safe." The news reporter announced, the camera returning to the studio with a small square for images in the corner of the screen. "The likely suspected for this act of vandalism is meta human Killer Croc due to the familiar claw marks, however, the GCPD are yet to find a motive."

"What the fuck?" Waylon grumbled with disbelief. Damn straight they needed a motive, who the hell wrecked a jewellery store and didn't take anything.

"Well?" Riddler asked, putting his phone away.

"Well what? Wasn't me." Waylon protested. He didn't quite remember exactly what he did last night due to a bit of excessive alcohol consumption, but he certainly didn't destroy a jewellery store. Or did he?

"I know that you idiot." Riddler snapped, whipping his phone out again and shoving the screen in Waylon's face to show him the claw marks again. "Recognise them?"

"Should I?" Waylon grumbled, yawning rather loudly to make it clear he was tired and just to remind Riddler that he had very sharp teeth.

"They are the same size claw marks as the ones on the side of your face." Riddler hissed, sounding somewhat irritated that Waylon hadn't realized it straight away, but also somewhat smug for figuring it out and being able to flaunt his intelligence for doing so. It wasn't like proving he was more intelligent than Waylon was any great feat. Again, Riddler was weird.

"So you reckon whatever wrecked the jewellery store was the same thing from the Avery?" Waylon clarified, fairly certain that was what Riddler was suggesting. Why exactly he didn't know.

"Well come on, you could be a _bit_ more interested." Riddler grumbled with frustration. "Don't you want to know _what_ attacked you? I mean if it was powerful enough to knock you down then surely you'd want to have it on your side, or at least get rid of it."

"If it's powerful enough to knock me down then I don't want to bother with it. Sounds like way too much effort." Waylon sighed, turning to go back to sleep but Riddler wasn't finished.

"Come on. Are you really _that_ apathetic that you'd turn down the opportunity to have a _real_ fight? I thought you loved that sort of thing." Riddler protested. His words prodded Waylon in the wrong spot and irritated him instantly.

"What I do with my time isn't your concern!" He snarled, turning around suddenly to snap near Riddler's face. "And if I don't want to bother fighting something then I fucking won't bother!" He could feel his eyes want to shift to slits and his vision blinked red a couple of times. Oh no. No, he wasn't allowed to lose it again, not in the day time. Riddler had nowhere to run or hide either so if he _did_ lose it then Riddler was screwed beyond belief.

Waylon turned around and skulked back into the lighthouse to calm down for a minute. Riddler did have a point however, he _had_ become rather disinterested in everything. Once upon a time Waylon loved to fight everything, and the more difficult the challenge the better his mood. He'd lived for the opportunities when something dangerous came along and would actively seek out that fight to maintain his status as the biggest muscle in Gotham. There was also a bit of correlation between how often he got into fights and how often he came close to or totally lost control. Giving into his violent temptations seemed to keep his monstrous side happy and maintained within him, it was only when he resisted it that Killer Croc came out. That of course didn't account for Madeline's presence, when she was around he felt calm and perfectly relaxed, not a single desire to be violent what so ever, but once she left however, he could feel it creeping up inside him to kill, maim and wreak havoc.

Now that he thought about it, Madeline had acted kind of like a drug. He would be angry and aggressive, then she'd come around and he'd calm down for a while, but after she left, he'd go back to being aggressive, even more so than before. Maybe her presence wasn't as helpful to him as he'd thought, and when she died he'd gone wild like he never had before. Now of course he had managed to gain control over himself without her around, a recovery from addiction if you will, but that only left him drained and listless, which in all honesty probably didn't help with his devolution. All he wanted to do was sleep, eat and just be left alone to his own misery. Perhaps it would be better to get out and do something, try and get back to normal. Madeline was gone, and she never coming back, he had to try and function without her drug like lullaby.

"Edward, wait." Waylon called, turning around as Riddler was just walking off.

"Change your mind?" Riddler asked arrogantly, turning his head with his nose in the air.

"Why do you want to investigate this thing?" Waylon asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Because it's fascinating, and I don't have anything else to do." Riddler confessed, and Waylon did not doubt that Riddler was bored without Batman around to torment. "Besides, this could be some monster cooked up in a secret science lab, and you know how much I loved uncovering hidden things and solving riddles."

"Yeah I guess. You got a plan?" Waylon asked, not really that bothered about discovering any secret organisation and more concerned with trying to regain a bit of normalcy in his life. He was going to do something with his time and get back into the swing of things before he devolved completely. Who knows, perhaps it would slow it down or something.

"But of course" Riddler announced with his head high in the air. "Come to the orphanage this evening and I will have it all sorted out and we can catch this thing."

"Wait. Catch it? I thought I was just going to kill it." Waylon grumbled with confusion. Killing it would be easier than capturing it, plus he didn't do the hostage situation very well.

"You can't just kill it!" Riddler protested, outraged at the very concept. "I need to study it, conduct experiments."

Waylon rolled his eyes and grumbled. Riddler was a man of science so it was no wonder he'd want to do experiments. Personally the idea of him doing that did not sit well with Waylon for personal reasons, but after he got into a tussle with whatever this thing was he'd probably be more than happy to see it suffer a little. Maybe he'd just leave the room during the whole experimentation part so he didn't have any Iron Heights flash backs.

"Okay fine, I won't kill it." Waylon promised half heartedly, not really sure if he could keep that promise. "I'll be there at nine. You better have a plan."

"I always have a plan. You had better stick to it." Riddler warned, almost sounding like he was threatening Waylon who was notorious for going off script. Working together again would be kind of tricky considering the opposing personalities, but so long as they stuck to their own jobs it would in theory work out.

Waylon shut the door to the lighthouse and skulked back into the darkness. He curled up on the scattered mattresses and shut his eyes tight but he couldn't get comfortable again. After a while of tossing and turning he ended up lying on his back looking up into the darkness, his hands behind his head. What he wouldn't give to have Madeline with him again. Even if she was somewhat of a drug to him and her absence made his condition worse, the momentary high of her presence and sense or normality that came with it was totally worth it. And in that moment he would gladly loose all of his humanity for the chance to see her again for just one moment.

Madeline didn't quite understand why they insisted on strapping her down when she went for tests and observations. What was she going to do, claw them with her nails and feebly punch them in the arm. She wasn't exactly a formidable force to be reckoned with. However, Langstrom looked like someone who would go down with even the slightest flick so it was probably for his safety that they kept Madeline restrained. Madeline certainly felt the urge to punch Langstrom in the face though, not because he was particularly cruller or anything, but because he was so god damn boring. The guy didn't speak or anything, he just did the tests in total silence and had a look of nervousness on his face.

"Okay seriously man, you are so boring." Madeline complained after ten minutes of silence. That was all she could bare. Langstrom looked at her and frowned with a puzzled expression.

"I don't have anything interesting to say." He answered duly, and his voice was possibly more irritating than the silence. He sounded like all happiness had been sucked out of his body and he was just a shell.

"Really? For a guy that turned himself into a giant bat I find that surprising." Madeline insinuated, and her words seemed to annoy Langstrom a bit. Was that a sore spot perhaps?

"It wasn't intentional." Langstrom answered, checking the observation screen.

"Oh. Then how does one _accidently_ turn himself into a giant bat?" Madeline asked cheerfully, genuinely curious but also feeling the urge to be irritating.

"I was trying to find a cure for deafness." Langstrom answered, sounding almost a little upset. Definitely a sore spot, but why?

"And..."

Langstrom was either socially awkward and didn't understand basic verbal prompts or he didn't want to talk about it anymore because he never responded to that and remained silent for the duration of the tests. Then, some people in hazmat suits came in to escort Madeline somewhere else. Possibly back to her cell. However, on the way back they stopped midway down the hall and another person in a hazmat suit who Madeline instantly recognised to be the mysterious woman stepped into view.

"You did the task very quickly with Field Test B, however, you were rather sloppy about it so this time I want you to be fast and quiet, leave no evidence behind." The woman explained, sounding like an endearing mother prompting her child to improve on their school work.

"You can tell me all the stuff you want but it won't make any difference since I have no memory of doing any of these field tests. I'm not conscious for them and I have no clue what they entail." Madeline snapped, fairly sick of this woman and her bullshit.

"Don't worry." The woman reassured. "It will stay in your subconscious so when the gene activation dosage is administered you will regain a vague memory of what you are supposed to do."

"Are you ever going to tell me what exactly this _gene activation_ does to me?" Madeline asked casually, as if she were merely asking for the answers to a test. "You guys turning me into some sort of monster or something?"

"It's better for your mental state if you don't know." The woman reassured, and Madeline just knew that she was smiling menacingly beneath the hazmat suit. "Don't want you to go crazy now do we."

"Yes because being tested on day and night in some secret underground facility with strangers in hazmat suits all around isn't enough to make you go bonkers."

The table Madeline was on rolled away from the woman before she got her answer, and instead of being rolled back to the cell they were taking her down to the garage where they had taken her for Field Test B. They kicked the wheels up on the table like ambulances do with stretchers as they loaded her into the back of a truck. Only Langstrom climbed into the back of the truck with her and produced a syringe with the dreaded gene activation dosage inside.

"Another field test?" Madeline asked curiously as she watched the needle stick into her arm. Since this was the third time Madeline was going through this she didn't freak out about it anymore. It was kind of scary how quickly she'd come to accept what they did to her as just part of the daily routine, but perhaps that was partly because she didn't have a choice in the matter and there was only so many times you could kick and scream.

Langstrom injected the dosage and Madeline felt her body go hot and begin to ache like it had the last two times. She braced for the mind melt and the agony of having her brain scrambled, her bones break and who body generally go into turmoil. She willed it to hurry up so she could get the painful part over with and go straight to black out, but the more she tried to force herself to hurry up and pass out, the longer it seemed to take. Her mind was racing and her eyes burnt, her skin felt like it was being peeled off and her mouth felt very dry. She also felt a pang of hunger start to grow in her stomach and the urge to eat anything and everything in sight, even if it meant gnawing off an arm. Then, the convulsion started, as if she were being electrocuted, and she felt her conscious start to fade away as everything went red.

Riddler was certainly prepared to hunt down whatever this thing was, and he had certainly been busy that day setting up cameras all over Gotham and hacking a few security feeds in the process. Waylon was rather irritated however, as when he arrived at Pinkney Orphanage, Jack was still hanging around.

"You still here? I thought I told you to go home!" Waylon growled as he pushed past the kid into Riddler's office.

"I'm not leaving until I find my sister." Jack argued, but Waylon just ignored him.

"Actually he's been very helpful." Riddler said, surprising Waylon a little with how quickly he had come around from finding Jack annoying to finding him useful. "He helped set up some of the cameras. It does help that he isn't a wanted criminal." Jack looked to Waylon for some sort of nod of approval but Waylon never supplied it. He wasn't bothered if the kid was useful or not, he just wanted him to go away.

"So, what's the plan?" Waylon asked, leaning on the desk but then quickly standing up again when he heard it creek a little. Riddler glared at him for nearly breaking the table but then returned to the plan.

"I have cameras set up all around Gotham and I've hacked into the security feeds for most places. It's a lot of space to cover, but I have a program installed that will alert me when a specific type of movement pattern is captured on the feed."

"That sounds... complicated." Waylon mumbled, not bothering to follow. Riddler however, was determined to make his rather dull brain understand and attempted to explain it.

"It is set so more animalistic movement activates it, large mammals, reptiles and birds. Also it's sensor only picks up movement belonging to something larger than a full grown man."

"How do you have so many cameras throughout the whole of Gotham?" Waylon wondered, ignoring all the science spiel. He knew Riddler was prolific with leaving stuff all over Gotham, like those annoying trophies he had for Batman.

"Information is key, and the more information you have the more power you hold." Riddler explained, sounding like an evil genius. Waylon chuckled to himself.

"Yeah, or you could hit the gym some time."

"Oh ha ha ha, very funny, I'm weak and feeble, you're big and strong. I get it!" Riddler snapped, years of being bullied as a child coming back into his memory no doubt. "Jack, intelligence is more important than brawn, remember that."

Riddler handed Waylon an earpiece so they could communicate and sent him to the middle of Gotham via the sewer system. The idea was for him to wait there so he'd be an equal amount of distance to all the possible targets around Gotham that the creature might hit. It was hard to predict the kind of location that would be hit next since the first had been an Avery and the second a jewellery store with no distinct link between them. What was it even doing anyway. Waylon crouched in the dark sewers, the rancid water slowly running past him and a few rats scurrying by. It was a fairly dismal and depressing setting, but it was his hunting grounds. However, the grime on the narrow path way, the scurry of rats and the smell of rot didn't remind him of days gone by where he'd hunt down the GCPD officers foolish enough to hunt for him down there, or the sewer workers taking a wrong turn. It all reminded him of that day four years ago. What a horrible place for someone to die, and to make matters worse he'd just left her lying in the filth like some common street walker. There had been no respect for her, and Madeline had deserved better than that.

"Waylon!" Riddler shouted through the earpiece, giving Waylon a small heart attack.

"Ah, what the fuck! What?" Waylon grumbled, ripping the earpiece out to yell at it. Got he hated technology.

"My cameras have picked up movement near the Gotham Library. I can't get a clear look at what it is but it's certainly reptilian looking." Riddler announced quickly, and Waylon shoved the earpiece back in before heading North as fast as he could. He had to run on all fours to get the speed up and followed the sewer system through the quickest route. He had the whole system mapped out in his head so he knew the fastest way to get to any location, but the library was still kind of far away from where he was. He had to get there before the creature disappeared.

"So its reptilian huh?" Waylon wondered to himself, but Riddler had heard it and couldn't help but provide his input.

"Looking at the size of it its smaller than you, but its proportions make it look like it'll be a lot faster and more agile." Riddler explained, his brilliant mind at work.

"Great, and here I thought the crocodile look was my trademark." Waylon complained with a heavy sigh, taking a right turn at a split in the sewer system.

"I can't really see much from this image alone since it's kind of pixelated, but I'd imagine something with that body shape wouldn't be good at head on conflict. It will most likely strike fast and aim for your weak points, like your throat so keep that in mind."

"How do you know what my weak points are?" Waylon grumbled curiously. It was a little unnerving to know that someone knew how to bring him down. The skin on his throat and underside wasn't as tough as the skin on his back, hence why he mainly kept his head down and stayed on all fours when fighting.

"Because I am a genius." Riddler announced, sounding so full of himself. "And I probably know more about crocodiles than you do."

"Oh really?" Waylon asked, feigning surprise. "Did you know crocodiles have the strongest jaws in the whole animal kingdom?"

"Yes, of course I knew that." Riddler scoffed.

"Good." Waylon beamed sarcastically. "Then you can guess what I'll do to you if you keep annoying me."

Riddler did not provide anymore unnecessary input for the duration of the trip to the library, and it was only when Waylon peered out from under the manhole cover outside the library that Riddler spoke again.

"You know I could just put a piece of string around your mouth and you wouldn't be able to open it again." He muttered quickly and Waylon groaned with frustration. Did he always have to have the last word? Waylon checked that there weren't too many people around. Thankfully, due to Gotham's high crime rate, no one out after sunset was the kind of person who called the police upon seeing Killer Croc skulk into the public library. He kind of hoped no one would see him, it would be bad for his reputation if people thought he was trying to make himself smarter.

Crawling out of the sewer he quickly skulked around the side of the library to the side door. The Gotham Library was an old building and the windows were higher up, a long stretch of stone between Waylon and a way in. Luckily for him, his claws weren't just for decoration, and were strong enough to break into the stone and support his weight as he climbed up the side to the closest window. He hauled himself up onto the ledge and peered through the window. He could see something down there in the darkness, moving quickly between the book shelves. It was being especially careful not to knock anything over, a drastic change from the jewellery store. Unfortunately for the creature, its stealth would be disrupted because Waylon had no intention of being so courteous to the books.

He leaped through the window, his arms up to the shield his eyes from the shattered glass. He landed with a thump but it didn't hurt the slightest bit. Waylon scanned the area for the creature but it was deathly silent in the library as whatever this thing was tried to stay hidden. Waylon was beginning to think it might have done a runner but then he heard the slightest sound of a nail on the wooden floor and turned around just in time for his arm to block what could have been another slash to the face.

The creature was fast, deadly fast, and didn't give Waylon so much as a second to lower his guard and fight back as it slashed from all angles. Riddler was right about the fast strikes as the creature darted around, trying to attack from all sides. Its claws were sharp too, even cutting through Waylon's skin and leaving his arms lacerated. There was only so much of this he could take so he quickly turned around and bashed the creature in the side with his tail as its claws clattered onto his bulletproof back. The creature went flying into a book stand and knocked it over, scrambling like a rabid dog to get back onto its feet. Waylon only got a glance in before it came at him again, snapping its jaws dangerously close to his face. He managed to put his arm up just in time to push back against its neck. He couldn't kill the damn thing since Ridder wanted to do tests on it, but damn was it stronger than it looked.

The creature certainly knew its anatomy as well as it made a slash for Waylon's chest, slicing through the skin and flesh, making him bleed and loose a bit of strength for a moment. A moment was all it needed as it lunged forward, shoving Waylon's arm to the side, and going to latch its teeth around Waylon's neck. Waylon didn't have time to grab it before it got to his neck, so he was forced to use his head for once, quite literally. He thrust his head forward and slammed it into the creatures nose, forcing it back as it clutched its face in agony. It staggered backwards, its eyes shut in pain. Waylon took his chance and lunged forward, knocking it to the ground and pinning it down by the neck with his forearm. The creature clutched at his arm and tried to slash through with its claws, kicking its legs about and whipping its tail around in a desperate attempt to get free. It was stronger than it looked but not strong enough. It wasn't getting up.

Now that it wasn't moving around at lightning speed Waylon could finally get a good look at exactly what it was. It was certainly reptilian looking with scaly skin like him, in a more turquoise looking shade of green, but it's underbelly and back had the same type of skin so it wasn't bulletproof. It was almost the same height as Waylon but it stood with a more vertical posture in comparison to Waylon's hunched over form, and its body proportions were more equally distributed and less bulky with more raptor like legs and claws. It's tail was longer and the creature seemed to be in more control of it, but it didn't have the intelligence to use it in a fight. Waylon observed the creatures face as it snapped and hissed at him. It had a more reptilian face than he did, but it certainly looked more aesthetic. It had somewhat of a short snout with small nostrils and teeth that stayed neatly inside the jaw rather than protruding over the lip like Waylon's did, and instead of spikes on the top of its head it had long, pointed, feather like strands of hair.

"Waylon? Have you got it?" Riddler asked through the earpiece.

"Yeah." Waylon answered, looking around for anyone who might try to help the creature.

"Good, bring it back here." Riddler ordered, and Waylon scoffed at how easy he made it sound.

"This thing won't stop squirming, plus its stronger than it looks. I don't think I can knock it out without giving it brain damage." Waylon complained. As he spoke, he felt the wriggling subside, as if the creature had heard him complain about its squirming and decided to be helpful. He looked down at it with confusion and instead of hissing at him, it just looked at him. Then he felt the weirdest thing. The creature's tail seemed to move and wrap around his tail, curling around it in some sort of weird tail embrace. "What the fuck are you doing?" Waylon asked nervously, moving his tail away from the creature's tail since it was weirding him out. He looked at it, puzzled, and the creature looked back with familiar eyes. Familiar green eyes. Familiar _emerald_ green eyes. Waylon felt his heart stop and everything the world seemed obsolete. Those eyes. He knew those eyes. They belonged to...

In his confusion and shock, he'd unintentionally lost his grip on the creature and it wriggled free. Kicking him in the gut and scurrying away from him. Waylon didn't even attempt to get back up, he just sat on the ground and stared at the creature as it scurried up the wall to a higher window, presumably the one it came in through. Before it left however, it stood on the walkway banister and snarled at him. As it stood there, its body relatively straight, Waylon could see its feminine figure. It had modest breasts that seemed out of place on a reptilian body, but they certainly weren't bad to look at, and its elegantly curved waist lead onto wide hips and a bottom that seemed just a little bit bigger than the bottom you would expect on a creature with those proportions. It was beautiful.

Waylon noticed something however, on the curve of its slender waist, a few scar marks that cut across, healed up but permanently there as a reminder of a terrible injury. A terrible injury he had an inkling would match up with his jaws. And then, it was gone. In an instant it disappeared from sight and Waylon was left unable to breath, unable to think, unable to even comprehend anything.

"Waylon?" He heard Riddler call through the earpiece, but he seemed so far away it could have just been a figment of his imagination. "Waylon are you there?"

"No way." Waylon gasped in whisper, rubbing his face to try and wipe some sense back into himself. "I wouldn't be."

"Waylon? What's going on? Did you lose the creature?" Riddler asked, sounding a little panicked. Not because he was worried about Waylon but because he might have lost an opportunity to study something new.

Waylon staggered to his feet and looked around the library. The knocked over stand lying on the floor, Alice in Wonderland books scattered all over the ground. What the hell was going on. What had it wanted in a library, why was it exist in the first place. It shouldn't exist, it shouldn't be alive, it was supposed to be alive.

"Edward. Hack into the city records and find out where Madeline was buried." Waylon ordered, making his way to the door. At this point he couldn't be bothered using the window, so what if people saw him.

"What? Why?" Riddler asked, sounding confused.

"Just do it already!" Waylon snapped, and quickly hurried outside and into the nearest sewer entrance. Some thugs saw him but he just ignored them completely and slipped into the dark, dank tunnels. He quickly strode through the system towards the cemetery. Gotham had three cemeteries. The more illustrious members of society were buried in the cemetery to the north of Gotham, while the other two for everyone else were in the south, and most likely where Madeline's grave would be.

"Anything?" Waylon snapped as he came to the junction between the two sewer systems that would take him each of the cemeteries.

"Err, hang on a sec..."

"HURRY IT UP!" Waylon roared, and he could hear Riddler almost fall of his chair in shock.

"Alright alright. Hang on. Ah ha, they cremated a Caucasian Jane Doe four years ago after her body was found in a sewer system. Age approximately twenty five, brown hair, lacerations to the lower abdomen..."

"That's her! Where!" Waylon snapped, desperate to know. He hadn't wanted to see before, but now he needed to know like his life depended on it. He needed to see that she was dead, he needed to know that she was dead and hadn't been turned into whatever that creature was. He didn't want her to suffer as a freak like he had. She deserved better.

"Mère l'Oye cemetery in the a public crypt. Box... one hundred and twenty three. Its sealed up now since its full."

"Doesn't matter." Waylon spat, and yanked out the earpiece. He look the left system and followed it all the way to the edge of the Gotham River. He leaped into the water and followed along the edge of the land until he reached the cemetery on a raised hill by the water. He clambered out and ripped up the pitiful fence that blocked his path. The door to the crypt was indeed sealed up, but he didn't have the time or the patience to be nice about breaking it. With a hard shove against the sealed up door with his shoulder, Waylon knocked it down. The wood splintered and made an awful sound but Waylon was already half way into the crypt before the dust had even settled. He scanned the boxes for the correct number and eventually found it down near the end. There was no name on the box. There was no fucking name on the box. No one knew her name. She had been buried as a nobody when she had been so much more than that.

He hesitated before he opened the box. How would he even know if the ashes in the box belonged to Madeline, they could be anyone's. Perhaps Riddler could do some tests or something to be sure, but would that even work? Would this even give him the answer he needed. What was the answer he wanted? Some part of him still hoped Madeline was alive and that she _was_ that creature. That beautiful looking, powerful reptilian creature with emerald eyes that was like him. She was like _him_. If it was Madeline then perhaps... No, she wouldn't be happy as that creature, and it hadn't acted like her, it hadn't even recognised him. But still, for a moment she seemed to have something behind those eyes, some sense of humanity and a memory of him. The way she'd held onto his tail with hers... No. That wasn't right. Madeline was dead, and this box contained her ashes.

He opened the draw slowly, expecting to see a small jar of ashes. But when he opened his eyes to peer inside, holding his breath expectantly, there were no ashes whatsoever. Inside the box, neatly placed so it looked as stunning as it had in the store when he'd stolen it, was the emerald green pendant, and next to it, a small silver figure in the shape of an owl.

 **Sorry this took a little while but I made it extra long for you. Big reveal here, and OMG an owl, what could it mean? Anyway, merry Christmas to you all and have a happy and safe holiday.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Okay okay, just slow down a minute." Riddler coaxed as Waylon paced up and down the hall. "You said you _saw_ Madeline?"

"Yes!" Waylon snapped for the hundredth time.

" _With_ the lizard?" Riddler clarified for the hundredth time, getting it wrong for the hundredth time _again_.

"NO!" Waylon roared, getting frustrated. "She _was_ the lizard!" Seriously, Riddler was supposed to be smart, how hard was this to comprehend?

"That's... That just doesn't make any sense though." Riddler question, looking puzzled with his brow furrowed. "How?"

"I don't fucking know!" Waylon growled, throwing his hands in the air. He paced down the hall again and stopped at the end. He was angry and confused, not a good combination. How had Madeline been turned into that creature? Why? And by whom? He'd only had one question, but answering that it only given rise to thousands more. In frustration he punched the wall, smashing through the brick and leaving a messy dent. It was so fucking confusing.

"So, what is this thing then?" Jack asked, examining the little silver owl as he sat perched on the edge of Riddler's desk. The annoying brat was never going to leave now that he knew his sister was alive.

"Another fucking thing I don't fucking know about." Waylon grumbled, stalking up and down the hall again. He had his eyes set on an old portrait hanging on the wall to destroy next.

"Give it here." Riddler said, snatching the figure from Jack's hands to examine it. "It looks like it's made of solid silver, hand crafted too. The detail is extraordinary."

"Then put it on _Antiques Road Show_ or something I don't fucking care. Just tell me what the fuck it means." Waylon ordered, growing impatient with all this pondering. He wanted answers so he could take action. He wanted to find out exactly _who_ had turned Madeline into that creature, _where_ they were and _how_ he could find them to make them all suffer for what they had done.

"I'm _trying_ to figure that out, and it would be a hell of a lot easier if you calmed down and stopped pacing about. It's distracting." Riddler hissed, swiving his chair around to the desk so he could examine the figure more closely.

Waylon didn't have the patience to deal with Riddler's frustration, and stalked down the hall, through the doors and back outside. He stalked down the steps and over to the water's edge where he stood looking out over the Gotham river, the city lights illuminating the horizon in a yellowish glow. He stared at the city before him, all the people that called Gotham home, one of them _had_ to know something about Madeline. Someone had to have _some_ idea of Madeline's location and who was responsible for turning her into that creature. Although, as the cold wind howled and the water lapped at the edge, Waylon knew that _he_ was the blame for everything.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the emerald pendant he'd retrieved from Madeline's box in the crypt. He held it up by its silver chain and gazed at it longingly.

"Madeline." He whispered, her name like a prayer on his lips. "Where are you?"

"So are we going to try and find her or what?" Jack interrupted, startling Waylon and annoying him some more. He shoved the pendent back into his pocket and glared at Jack.

"There is no _we_. _I_ am going to find Madeline. _You_ are to stay here until I find her, or better yet, you could go home." Waylon suggested, folding his arms and peering down at the kid who just kicked the dirt with frustration.

"I'm not leaving without my sister. And stop treating me like a little kid, I'm nineteen!" Jack whined, proving his point otherwise.

"You're a kid who thinks he's tougher than he actually is. Keep that attitude up and you'll get yourself killed. Especially in Gotham."

"I _am_ tough. I get into fights all the time at home and always come out on top." Jack boasted, puffing out his chest. "I got muscles too." He was closer to looking like Riddler rather than a street thug. Waylon sighed and shook his head.

"There's more to being tough than strength alone." Waylon grumbled, possibly sounding like some mentor in a movie he once saw. He couldn't believe he was preaching that there was more to being tough than strength considering he was 700lb of pure muscle and had no brains to speak of yet still held the title of the toughest criminal in Gotham. But what else constituted toughness? Endurance perhaps? The ability to get through some of the hardest situations despite all odds.

"Your sister was tough." Waylon added after a few moments of thinking. "She was a lot tougher than me."

"What? How?" Jack asked, sounding bewildered, confused and slightly annoyed. He was a little bit like Waylon in that respect.

"I dunno. She didn't give up easy. She didn't give up on me, even when things got bad." Waylon explained meekly, sitting down on a large rock by the water's edge. "And things got bad _a lot_." Madeline had to be the toughest person on the planet, or the dumbest, for being able to make it work with Waylon for as long as she did. Waylon wasn't easy to get along with or to deal with then he was having a bad day, but she'd made it work time and time again. Even when faced with his Killer Croc side, even after he clawed her arm and terrified the shit out of her when he lost it in the night club. She'd dealt with it and moved on. On some occasions, Waylon was fairly confident _he_ wouldn't have been able to cope without her support and her strength. Even when they broke into Penguin's place Madeline had stayed tough and dealt with it all, heck, she'd fired at a gun at Bane for god's sake instead of hiding in the corner like any normal person would do.

"You know, when I was little, our mum was never really around so Madeline looked after me all the time. You're right about her being tough." Jack began, and Waylon's ears pricked up. He didn't really know much about Madeline's childhood, other than the fact her mum had addiction problems.

"What was she like when she was younger?" Waylon asked, unable to stop himself asking when the last thing he wanted to do was talk to Jack some more. Still, he was genuinely curious about Madeline's childhood, before he went and ruined her life. Jack seemed quite happy for the opportunity to talk about it and sat down on the low wall that ran around the edge of the property.

"She was really cocky and headstrong. Always getting into fights at school and occasionally bringing them home with her. This one time, she got into a fight with this dickhead from her school and almost ripped his ear off with her teeth."

Waylon couldn't help but laugh at that. Damn, he hadn't realised how alike he and Madeline were. Made sense that they'd gotten along so well and so quickly.

"I remember this one time, the local bikers came looking for our mum to get some money off her, but she was out somewhere at the time and Madeline had to deal with them." Jack explained, hunching his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. "They were big and scary looking, but Madeline wouldn't even let them in the house. They threatened to do stuff to her but she just looked them in the eyes and said ' _do whatever the fuck you want to me but if you so much as touch my little brother I promise you I will rip your throat out and feed it to your dog'._ They never tried anything with her and eventually got their money, but I do recall never being bothered by them as I was growing up. I guess they didn't want to risk it."

Waylon could very easily imagine Madeline fulfilling that promise. She was indeed the kind of person that would do anything to protect the people she cared about. Heck, she'd stood in front of the GCPD officers sent to bring Waylon in, guns and all, with her arms splayed out to protect him. And what had he done in return? Killer her? And even then, she still tried to protect him from himself with her dying breath. Only, it wasn't her dying breath, she was still alive and now physically capable of doing all the crazy things she promised her enemies. The question was, after all this time, was Waylon still someone she cared about?

"Who ran over my head with a truck last night." Madeline complained as she sat up in her bed. Her head was pounding worse than any hangover. It felt like she'd had her head bashed with a sledge hammer, not to mention her body hurt like she'd just gone toe to toe with an elephant. What the heck had they done to her? Or rather, what the heck had _she_ done when they'd turned her into whatever the fuck they were turning her into.

"Late night huh?" Jason asked with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah, totally got wrecked and partied until the sun came up." Madeline groaned, a little too tired for her usual level of sarcasm. "What the fuck are they making me do?"

"If I was injected with some sort of mysterious drug and woke up feeling awful with no memory of what happened, I honestly wouldn't _want_ to know."

"Oh hardy har har, good one." Madeline hissed, rolling her eyes but even that hurt. She slumped down with her back against the wall and tried to force the world to stop spinning around so painfully.

"So, out of curiosity, what do they do to _you_ when they take you off to the labs?" Madeline asked after a few minutes of trying to will her pain away.

"Usually they just try to push me to my physical limits, make me balance on a tight tope upside-down with one hand. That sort of thing." Jason said casually. Madeline have certainly preferred to do stuff like that over being knocked out every night, but she imagined the tasks Jason had to do were for quite extended periods of time considering how long he was away for at a time.

"Why?" Madeline asked. Were they trying to create the perfect human specimen or something?

"I think they're trying to turn me into Batman." Jason answered honestly with a sigh, he sounded fairly dismal about the prospect. Madeline processed it for a few moments. Of all the people to try and _turn_ _into Batman_ , for whatever reason, an ex-Robin and Arkham Knight who almost defeated Batman himself would be the perfect candidate. But why?

"What do you reckon they do to Lonnie?" Madeline asked, glancing at the man in the cell across from them, curled up and shivering with fear. The poor guy always looked so traumatized. Whatever they did to him was certainly causing deep psychological scars that were slowly driving him mad.

"I heard a rumour about him." Jason whispered, as if it would be dangerous for anyone else to hear. Madeline moved and pressed her ear up against the wall, keeping an eye on Lonnie to make sure he wasn't listening.

"What is it?" She asked in an even more hushed whisper.

"Apparently, and this is just a rumour, but apparently they're trying to turn him into The Joker."

"What!" Madeline exclaimed very loudly, and quickly covered her mouth but the sound was already out there. Everyone glanced at her, some with irritated expressions and others with confusion. Even Lonnie looked up, his tired eyes so weary and void of life. Madeline couldn't figure it out though. Why did they want to turn Lonnie in Joker of all people. Was that what they did at this facility, turned people into other people? If Jason was to become Batman, was Lonnie to become Joker, and so on and so forth with everyone else. If that was the case then who were they trying to re-create with her?

"Like I said, it's just a rumour." Jason clarified, sounding annoyed with Madeline's little outburst.

"But why Joker?" She asked, whispering once more even thought Jason had returned to normal volume.

"Beats me. I dunno why they select the people they do for the reasons they do it. History, genetics, personality, ethnicity, relationships, who knows? You could be in here because of your relationship with Croc, or because you happen to have a specific set of genes suitable for whatever experiment they do on you."

"Ha, I have a specific set of jeans alright, expensive designer ones that make my ass look great." Madeline scoffed, rising a hearty laugh out of Jason, one she hadn't heard before. But the amusement was short lived as the doors opened and a group of people in hazmat suits walked in, one of them standing in the middle as if being guarded by the rest. They stopped outside of Madeline's cell and opened up their little circle to allow the middle one out. The woman. Madeline backed up against the far wall. She wanted to get as far away from this woman as possible.

"You did well on field test C. Quick and quiet, just like I told you." The woman said, sounding proud but also a little annoyed. "Sadly, Subject 2493 interfered and forced you to perform the task we had intended for field test D."

"Okay lady. Would you please stop using ' _subject this_ ' and ' _field test that_ ' and speak plain English for once. It's hard to keep up."

"Yes, I'd imagine it would be hard for _you_ to keep up with." The woman sneered, and Madeline felt her blood boiling in her veins.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Madeline snapped, stalking forward and standing face to face with the woman. She seriously wanted to tear this woman's throat out. The woman didn't flinch and merely chuckled at Madeline's attempt to seem intimidating.

"It means what you think it means. Be thankful that you now serve a purpose, as a piece of trailer trash you should be grateful at the opportunity we have given you to be so much more." The woman boasted, puffing out her own ego while stomping on Madeline's. Madeline found herself growling at the woman, something she'd never done before and didn't even realise she was doing until the vibration caused her head to hurt again. The woman chuckled at Madeline's surprise to hear herself growl and Madeline just knew the woman had a smug smile on her snooty face.

"You bitch, when I get out of here I'm going to..." Madeline threatened, but the woman interrupted her half way through.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word." The woman warned, almost a threat. Madeline felt a chill run down her spine and her body froze up. How did she know about that? The woman turned and rejoined her little hazmat entourage before walking off, leaving Madeline to slump down onto the floor, a look of total shock on her face.

"Nothing has shown up on the cameras yet." Riddler said through the earpiece as Waylon sat in the slowly emptying warehouse.

"Yeah, I figured as much." Waylon grumbled, watching the last of the crates get moved into the back of the food trucks. The last thing he wanted to be doing was working for Penguin. Now that he knew Madeline was alive he wanted, no, he _needed_ to be out there searching for her. She'd hit Gotham every night so far, she had to show up again and soon. He didn't want to be on one side of Gotham in a stuffy warehouse if she showed up on Riddler's cameras on the other side. He didn't care about the money Penguin was paying him either, he just wanted to find Madeline.

He quickly switched the earpiece off when he spotted Lark approaching with a seductive saunter, mischief plastered onto her face.

"Who you talking to?" She asked, not sounding interested in the answer so much as the opportunity to talk to Waylon again.

"No one." Waylon grumbled, getting off his seat to walk away from the annoying woman. Why was she so interested in him anyway?

"Shame. I was hoping you would double cross us so I could have an opportunity to fight you. Tonight is being so boring." Lark complained, following Waylon as he tried to walk away from her.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Waylon lied, stopping when he realised there was no escaping this woman.

"You know what you could do to help me stave off the boredom?" Lark suggested seductively, etching dangerously close to Waylon. "We could sneak out of here and find a nice, quiet little..."

"Can you just fuck off!" Waylon snapped, interrupting Lark mid seductive efforts and being a little more aggressive than he'd intended. He was really getting annoyed with her, especially since he now knew Madeline was alive. Even so much as _looking_ at another woman seemed like cheating, even if he felt _no_ attraction to her what-so-ever.

Unluckily for him, Lark appeared to be even more annoyed than he was. The insult of rejection did not sit well with any woman, and Lark certainly looked like a woman who made hell's fury pale in comparison.

"Listen buddy. I've been nothing but nice to you and _this_ is how you thank me?" Lark hissed, her expression suddenly becoming very ugly as her gothic makeup contorted into a menacing scowl. "Look at me. I'm so scorching hot Poison Ivy would look like a weed in comparison. And _I've_ been offering _you_ , of all people, a chance to get a taste." Waylon snorted with amusement. Lark wasn't _that_ hot, and since human women didn't turn Waylon on anymore she was even less attractive in _his_ eyes. Waylon's amusement did not make Lark happy one bit and the woman put both her hands on her hips, and her game face on.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Lark hissed. "What? Because you killed your little whore girlfriend you can't fuck anyone for free? Give me a fucking break..."

Waylon wasn't entirely sure what happened, but before he knew what was going on he had Lark pinned against the wall, slowly crushing her neck with his claw.

"Don't you _EVER_ say _ANYTHING_ about her!" Waylon snarled, baring his teeth and snarling so close to Lark's face his hot breath left moisture on her face as she wriggled in his grip. " _She_ is so much more than _you_ will _EVER_ be, and deserves to be treated with respect. So you better not mention her again or I _won't_ be so kind as to kill you before I tear the flesh from your bones and have you _SCREAMING_ FOR DEATH!" Waylon roared so loud everyone froze up with terror, petrified that any movement would set him off. Lark's face was stricken with horror and she looked like a small child who had just seen Satan get his head blown off. Waylon would not have someone like _Lark_ insulting Madeline in that way, and he didn't care if the level of rage he was feeling right now sent him over the edge into a killing frenzy, he was going to get his point across.

Letting go of Lark's neck, the woman dropping into a heap on the floor before scurrying to safety, Waylon spun around to address the rest of the people in the room.

"Anyone else got anything to say? Because I don't mind having a late night snack!" He threatened, deliberately licking his lips to instil a little more fear if his appearance wasn't enough by itself. No one dared say anything and they all scurried back to work. Waylon growled with indifferent approval and stalked over to the corner. He could feel the monster inside him claw at the edges of his mind in a desperate bid to get out. He shouldn't have gotten so angry, now he had to deal with an ever eager Killer Croc wanting to escape. And he'd been doing so well recently too.

"Come on, keep it together." He ordered himself. "Hush little baby don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you... DAMN IT!" The song didn't work when _he_ did it, or at least it didn't work on the self.

"You are so _not_ going to get paid." Lark interrupted, and Waylon spun around to see Lark standing just a little bit behind Bossworth for protection. Pathetic.

"We _will_ report this to Penguin." Bossworth warned in his dull monotone voice. Waylon shrugged and walked straight past them.

"I don't fucking care, tell him what you like, and he doesn't have to pay me!" Waylon growled as he stalked towards the exit. "I'm leaving, good luck dealing with Nightwing and Robin when they show up."

"Walking out on a job isn't very professional." Bossworth warned, trying to get Waylon to come back but failing miserably. "He won't hire you again."

Waylon ignored the threats and stalked outside into the cold night air. He switched the earpiece back on.

"Anything?" He asked, unable to help but sound desperate. He didn't want to have just walked out on a job for a night of standing about. He needed to keep busy, if he stopped he might just lose it.

"Yes, fucking yes!" Riddler yelled into the earpiece. "I've been trying to get through to you for ages. I got her on camera at the Monarch Theatre, its near your location! Get a move on!" Waylon snapped into action and headed North East. He didn't even bother to go into the sewer system since the underground rout took too long. He'd just have to risk being seen and hopefully avoid any caped crusaders. He just prayed that he got to Madeline before anyone else.

 **Does anyone know why they might be trying to turn Lonnie into The Joker. Anyone know why they would do it to Lonnie in particular? How does The Woman know about the lullaby, what is the significance of the silver owl figure, why do these people do what they do? In any case, Waylon has had enough working jobs for Penguin and dealing with Lark, his number one priority is finding Madeline. Hopefully that means he'll be quick about it so we can get some "** ** _fun"_** **scenes into the story which I know you are all hanging out for. I hope everyone had a good Christmas and has a good New Year.**

 **R.I.P George Michael**

 **Sorry to see this was your last Christmas**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Why Madeline was at Monarch Theatre, Waylon had no freaking idea. Why she had been at any of the locations was totally beyond him. A library, and before that an Avery? The only one that had made any sense was the jewellery store, but even then she hadn't taken anything. What were the purposes of her appearances. Were they just random places she chose to visit every night and throughout the day she was hidden away somewhere else. Or perhaps she was being instructed by someone to go to these places, controlled in some way. Still, why these random locations? Riddler hadn't seemed to figure it out yet either, and if he couldn't do it then Waylon didn't have a chance.

As he neared the theatre he slowed down and scanned the area for danger. The place had been renovated in recent months. It _was_ once one of Joker's hideouts back when the area was part of Arkham City. According to the rumours, Joker, who had been dying at the time, had hidden here while Clayface pretended to be him somewhere else. This was also the place Joker had died. It was a wonder the place wasn't haunted. After he was sure the place was clear, Waylon stalked up to the door to find the lock was broken. Madeline had come in through the front door, not very inconspicuous of her. Once again Waylon checked the coast was clear before opening the door and slipping inside.

The foyer was undisturbed, the box office all shut up and the whole room in silence. Waylon listened closely, but he couldn't hear anything moving about in the vicinity. Either Madeline was being quiet, or she wasn't here anymore. Waylon walked past the box office, past the food stand and past all the posters advertising the upcoming performances, and opened the double doors to the gallery. It was very fancy in its refurbishment, plush red seats and golden adornment on the wall of the upper seatings. Whoever had funded the refurbishment was certainly a big fan of the theatre, that or a guilty Wayne trying to atone for breaking his _no kill_ rule. It would be totally up Batman's street to refurbish the location where he killed his arch nemesis. There was probably a plaque somewhere that read ' _In loving memory of Joker_ '. Joker would have certainly done the same for Batman. Waylon never had understood their relationship.

He tentatively walked down the steps towards the stage, the whole room swamped in darkness. Because of his superior eyesight he was able to see every detail, and he used his other superior senses to try and scan for Madeline. He couldn't see, smell or hear her as he walked up the small side steps onto the stage. He scanned the whole room once more but came up empty.

"I think I missed her?" Waylon admitted dismally through the earpiece.

"Really? None of my camera's have picked up anything leaving the theatre. Are you sure you can't sense her or anything?" Riddler suggested, unintentionally annoying Waylon some more, as if he wasn't already frustrated enough.

"No I can't ' _sense_ ' her, I'm not clairvoyant." Waylon grumbled, looking around to see if Madeline would make an appearance upon hearing his voice.

"Keep an ear out. Looking at her anatomy I'd say she's built for stealth."

"Could you _not_ look at her anatomy, thanks." Waylon suggested, feeling a little jealous. Riddler made somewhat of a laughing noise on the other end of the line, that or he was coughing his lungs out.

"Don't worry. I'm not into 10ft tall lizard women." Riddler reassured, still chuckling.

Waylon did grin at the prospect, but then it also got him thinking. Was _he_ into 10ft tall lizard women? When he'd seen Madeline's new body, all be it for a couple of seconds, he'd certainly found her to be stunningly gorgeous, even though she didn't look anything like she used to. He'd always hated his own appearance, so why did he find Madeline's lizardish appearance so attractive. Was his devolution causing him to become attracted to creatures of the same species in a weird kind of way? If it was, that would certainly explain why he struggled to find human women attractive.

"Waylon I got movement!" Riddler blurted, and Waylon quickly glanced around for a positional attack, but everything was still quiet.

"Where is she?" Waylon asked angrily, scanning around. He still couldn't see, smell or hear her, but he knew she was out there. He could sense it. Okay, maybe Riddler had a point about that.

"I don't know, but she's in the room. She's stalking you." Riddler warned, and the prospect seemed very foreboding. Waylon wasn't used to being the prey, and now that he was, he felt a chill down the back of his neck and an itchy nervousness that made ever sound so much louder. The wind outside sounded like a gale. Every mouse scampering about sounded like an elephant. And every voice of passersby sounded like they all had a megaphone. But still no Madeline. Where was she?

Waylon was given no time to react when he suddenly felt Madeline's teeth sinking into his neck, her claws on his shoulders and her feet on his back. She pulled with all her might and tore a lump of flesh from his body before springing back to a safe distance as Waylon felt onto one knee. He grunted and growled as the pain burnt into his body like a branding iron, blood oozing from his neck and spurting through his fingers as he tried in vain to stop the bleeding. He could probably regrow the important parts of his neck before he passed out from blood loss, but only if he stayed still. By the look of Madeline's body language as she circled around him, searching for another place to attack, he figured she had other plans in mind.

"Waylon, are you alright?" Riddler asked frantically through the earpiece.

"No I'm not fucking fine." Waylon grunted as he arched his back and held one arm up over his head to try and protect himself. He couldn't engage her just yet, he needed his neck to heal otherwise she would certainly kill him. Lucky for him, the skin on his back was far too tough for Madeline to get through, but damn did she try her hardest with those sharp claws of hers.

"I'm analysing her attacks and it looks like you'll have to be sneaky if you're going to capture her?" Ridder suggested, and Waylon could hear him furiously typing away on his computer through the earpiece.

"I don't do _sneaky_." Waylon grumbled, bracing as Madeline's claws came dangerously close to snagging the side of his face. He curled up tighter and felt like a feeble weakling, cowering as he endured attack after attack. Madeline certainly wasn't slowing down, and this time she wasn't trying to avoid a fight, her purpose for being at the theatre was specifically to fight him. But why?

"She's got incredible endurance and agility, she can go for hours."

"Well that sounds wonderful." Waylon muttered, half joking half irritated that Riddler was spending more time glorifying Madeline's new abilities rather than giving Waylon a way to beat her.

"Looking at her psychological state however, she would most likely fall for the simplest of deceptions. All you need to do is look like you're going to attack her from one direction, but then attack from another instead. Like a striker in a game of soccer. Misdirection and all that."

" _'_ _All I need to do_ ' huh? Have you ever been in a fight?" Waylon complained. He grimaced when he felt Madeline's claws start to cut through the skin at the base of his spine where it was slightly weaker. Shit.

He didn't have any more time to wait for his neck to heal up, and the bleeding had at least reduced to a mere dribble. But he felt kind of dizzy from the blood lose, and he wasn't sure if it was unconsciousness that wanted to take him, or Killer Croc. He couldn't lose it in this fight. If Killer Croc came out who knows what would happen in that fight. Sure, the brutality alone from Croc would be enough to bring Madeline down, but that monster didn't have any feelings and would just see Madeline as another creature to kill. Waylon didn't want to be responsible for killing Madeline all over again. He had to capture her without doing too much damage.

Madeline, obviously getting irritated with the lack of contribution from Waylon in the fight, decided to play dirty and went for Waylon's tail. It was an unexpected move but it was certainly effective. The moment her teeth sunk into flesh Waylon felt his body convulse of its own accord and force him to straighten up as if someone had just jabbed him in the ribs. Before he knew it, Madeline slid under his legs and pushed off the ground with her arms, her clawed feet colliding with Waylon's jaw and knocking him backwards. Waylon landed with a thud but managed to get his arms up in time to stop Madeline from getting a killing blow, holding her back with his forearm against her neck as she snapped in his face. Waylon certainly had no qualms with Madeline being on top of him, her breasts mashed against his chest and her ass in the air, but the saliva and blood dripping into Waylon's face as Madeline's vicious jaws etched closer kind of killed the mood. Oddly enough however, Madeline did that tail thing again, wrapping it around his and somewhat wrestling it in a playful way. She also seemed to move her body against his in a way that could be interpreted as just trying to get closer to kill him, or as just trying to get closer. To make things even more confusing, Madeline almost looked to have a menacing smile on her face as she tried to rip _his_ off. Was she enjoying this? What the hell was going on?

"Madeline!" Waylon yelled, attempting to get through to her humanity. "It's me, Waylon. Do you recognise me or..." Madeline obviously didn't like it when he spoke during their fight because she suddenly gained a lot more strength and came dangerously close to ripping Waylon's head off.

"She doesn't appear to be anything more than an animal, Waylon. Words won't work." Riddler reminded, and Waylon felt a wave of uncontrollable rage come over him for a few seconds.

"SHE IS _NOT_ JUST AN ANIMAL!" Waylon roared, possibly deafening Ridder down the end of the line. Contrary to what he was protesting against, upon hearing his roar Madeline responded according, roaring so loudly Waylon felt sorry for all the people he'd ever roared at. Wow, it was _loud_.

"Shit!" Waylon grumbled as his ears started to ring. Nice to see she had a good set of lungs though. Then an idea hit him, a rare occurrence to say the least. He really wanted to toss the earpiece because he didn't want Riddler hearing what he was about to do, but he couldn't get to it without risking his life so he was forced to endure the embarrassment.

"Hush little baby don't say a word." Waylon begin, his horrible, gravely and out of tune voice attempting to be soothing. "Papa's gonna buy you a..."

Madeline's face twisted with rage in a way that terrified Waylon to his core. Whether or not she'd found his singing awful or didn't _want_ to be calmed down, he had no idea, but when she lunged for his throat again, this time he was unable to hold her back. He managed to tilt the arm holding her back so that it guided her head and jaws to the side while simultaneously shielding his injured neck. As he did so, he quickly got his free hand around Madeline's back and pulled her close to him. This wasn't because he wanted her body pressed up against his, however, that wasn't exactly the furthest thing from his mind, but so he could get a firm grip of her as he rolled them over, pushing her face down into the ground and pinning her there in one fell swoop. He pressed his arm against the back of her neck to keep her from getting up, the only downside was he had to be closer to her to do that which meant Madeline's writhing body was beneath him and her ass was pressing into his crotch.

"You did it!" Riddler cheered. "Now you need to get her out of there and back to the Orphanage so we can find out what is going on."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Waylon grumbled, sounding irritated but it wasn't because the task at hand was an impossible one, but because he had to fight every manly urge in his body to keep Madeline down.

"You could knock her out?" Riddler suggested, and Waylon growled down the line at the idea.

"I'm not hurting her." He snarled, but again it was hard to be scary and vicious when he was turned on against his will.

"Then how else are we going to do this. I have some chemicals that might work but it will take at least an hour to get them to you."

"I can't last an hour!" Waylon blurted, accidentally sounding kind of whiny. Riddler certainly noticed it and Waylon hissed a breath in, cursing himself, but even that sounded like a pathetic submissive gasp for air.

"Are you alright?" Riddler asked nervously, not sounding like he wanted to know the answer.

"No I'm not, this is fucking hard... Just hurry up and bring some chemicals or something before I lose her." Waylon groaned, struggling to keep Madeline down as she was now serious about trying to get free.

"I'm on my way... Oh shit!" Riddler cursed, and Waylon dreaded the worst.

"What?"

"There are armoured vehicles on rout to your location. You need to get out of there!" Riddler warned, and Waylon felt a pang of dread in his chest.

"GCPD?" He asked. If it _was_ the GCPD come to drag him _and_ Madeline to Arkham then he was seriously going to lose it. He had been out of there for quite a while now and he did not want to go back anytime soon. But more importantly, he didn't want Madeline getting tossed in there with the rest of the crazies, especially with her like this. They'd fry her brain until there was nothing left of her.

"No, it's not the GCPD." Riddler answered, but his curious tone suggested that it wasn't a better alternative. "They look to be a private force. They have heavy weaponry by the looks of it, and my scanners indicate that they have quite a high voltage electroshock weapon."

"Shit! That's for us. We gotta go!" Waylon snapped, hooking his arm under Madeline's neck and lifting her to her feet. He held her tight by the neck as she clawed at his arms to get free. He did have an idea to maybe suffocate her just enough to knock her out, but he had never done that before and didn't want to accidently kill her.

"They're outside the theatre you need to..."

Riddler was suddenly cut off as the earpiece frazzled in Waylon's ear. It hurt like a bitch and Waylon instinctively yanked it out. Unfortunately, that meant he lost his hold on Madeline and she slithered out of his grip.

"Damn it!" Waylon cursed to himself, but he was kind of glad Madeline's body wasn't pressed against his anymore. He had been about to go crazy with all the struggling and writhing Madeline had been doing. Madeline scurried a few meters away from Waylon and crouched low on the ground, hissing and snarling at him but not attacking. She no doubt didn't want to end up trapped again. Waylon decided not to try and grab her again, not until she made the first move at least. If she thought she was losing then she'd possibly try and make a break for it.

"Madeline. There are people coming to capture us. We need to get out of here. Come with me." Waylon pleaded, praying to god that she somehow understood him. Strangely enough, it seemed like God was listening because Madeline's posture relaxed a little, and she stopped snarling. Waylon very slowly offered his hand out, careful not to move too quickly and scare her off.

"Come on babe, come with me." He coaxed with a sad smile. Madeline looked at Waylon's hand nervously, as if it were something she had never seen before. Her whole body language changed, becoming far more reserved and protective than the vicious attacker from before. She looked frightened and nervous, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She seemed to be assessing the situation before her in a more human way than that of an animal, like a child that had been living in the woods for so long and was only seeing another person for the first time. Cautious but wanting to trust him. Seeing her like this made Waylon very angry. What had they done to her? They'd turned her into this creature that was so afraid and confused. Had they stripped her of everything that she was? Was Madeline even still inside her? She had to be. She _needed_ to be.

The doors to the theatre bust open and the room was flooded with heavily armoured militia. They all had their sights on Waylon and Madeline, the lasers from the guns aimed at all the weak spots. They were certainly prepared. The sudden intrusion freaked Madeline out because she made a move to escape. Waylon was going to let her go so she would at least get to safety, but the militia had other ideas.

"Tranquilizer dart on Subject 3871, now!" One of the militia ordered, and before Waylon had time to react a dart was shot through the air and hit Madeline in the neck. The instant it made contact Madeline fell to the ground with a thud. Waylon rushed over to her and scooped her up so he could make a break for it and finally get her out of there, however, the militia quickly surrounded him, weapons primed with electroshock as well as armour piercing bullets. If it was just him he would have risked it, but he didn't know how bulletproof Madeline was and wasn't about to risk it.

"Subject 2493 has the target, how do you want us to proceed ma'am?" The militia commander asked into his headset. He was tall and lean, and like the rest of the militia, wearing riot gear so Waylon couldn't see his face. Whoever he was, Waylon had decided he hated him more than anything. There was silence as he received his answer and then he nodded.

"Understood ma'am." He said plainly. "All electroshock guns on Subject 3871." All the guns shifted and their lasers pointed on Madeline.

"Waylon Jones, place Subject 3871 on the ground and step back." The militia commander ordered, but Waylon did not make any attempt to obey the command. He couldn't just let them have her, not after all this time. He was so close damn it.

"Waylon Jones, this is your last warning. Place Subject 3871 on the ground and step back or we will _shock_ her." The militia commander threatened, this time with more venom in his words. It was almost like he wanted Waylon to disobey. Damn it though, how did they know Waylon wouldn't let them shock Madeline. That was a personal detail only a few people knew about, how did they, or rather, their employer, know about it. Begrudgingly, Waylon let Madeline down gently, lying her down on the wooden stage floor.

"And step back." The militia commander coaxed after Waylon made no attempt to move. Waylon growled as he took a step back, and then another, and another until he was too far away from Madeline for comfort.

"Ma'am, Subjects are separated. Permission to proceed with Subject 3871 deactivation?" A pause. "Thank you ma'am. Administer gene deactivation dosage!" One of the militia, this one with a little red cross on his uniform to identify him as a medic, went over to Madeline, a small white box in hand. He placed it on the ground beside Madeline and opened it, producing a long needle. Waylon flinched just the slightest bit at the sight of a needle, containing god knows what, so close to Madeline. The guns were on him in an instant and he dared not make a move to do a daring rescue at the last minute. There was no escaping this time. The medic injected whatever was in the needle into Madeline's wrist. It was a good thing Waylon hadn't chosen to make a break for it when he'd had the chance, Madeline was certainly not bulletproof.

Once the injection was finished and the ' _gene deactivation dosage_ ', whatever _that_ was, was administered, the medic took a step back and the militia ordered for them all to hold their position. Then, after a few seconds, Madeline's began to convulse. Waylon instinctively went to help her but one of the militia fired a very powerful bullet that shot straight through Waylon's leg, dropping him onto his knee. He snarled at the militia in charge who was paying more attention to Madeline's convulsing body. Then Waylon realised Madeline's body wasn't just convulsing, it was changing. Her arms and legs seemed to shrink, and the blood chilling sound of bones snapping could be heard by everyone in the room. Waylon didn't understand what was going on. He could only stare with disbelief as Madeline's reptilian form slowly morphed and convulsed until in its place was an unconscious and naked _human_ Madeline.

"Subject 3871 has returned to base form, returning home." The militia confirmed, and he walked towards Madeline. He scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Waylon felt a pang of irritation at the fact Madeline's naked body was in the arms of another man.

"Ma'am, what do you want us to do with Subject 2493?" The militia commander asked the person on the other end of the headset. Whoever this ' _ma'am_ ' was, Waylon wanted her dead. _She_ was the one responsible for everything that was happening to Madeline. She had to pay for it.

"Understood. Heavy tranquilizer on Subject 2493 and then we are good to go." The militia commander ordered, and one of the militia, most likely the one who shot Madeline with the tranquilizer dart, aimed his dart gun at Waylon's neck. Now that Madeline was away from him he didn't need to worry about her safety, he could make a move.

Waylon made a charge for the militia commander but he wasn't fast enough, or perhaps the militia with the dart gun was faster. In any case, the dart hit its mark and Waylon tumbled to the ground, falling off the stage and landing on the seats. He couldn't move, it took instant affect, and as everything stated to fade to black, the last thing he saw was Madeline being taken away from him once again.

 **I did not intend to make the fight with Waylon and Madeline sexual, it just happened of its own accord but I hope you liked it. Oh so close Waylon, but you just missed her again. Maybe next time you'll have better luck.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Waylon woke up in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fields of golden wheat as the sun began to lift its head up from the horizon. He had not anticipated that the tranquilizer would let him dream, usually it just knocked him out and let him sleep the whole way through. It was the only upside to being knocked out. He got to his feet and want over to the cabin. As always he peeked through the window to see Madeline standing with her back to him in front of the oven, cooking breakfast as she did in every dream. Waylon would have happily stayed and watched her for a while but he wanted the dream to be over so he could get back to reality faster and go after the real Madeline.

When he opened the door he could hear Madeline faintly humming a familiar tune. He hesitantly walked forward to hold her and get the nightmare over with, but to his surprise Madeline turned around and gave him a suspicious look.

"Are you still attracted to me?" She asked with a frown. Waylon was a little taken aback by the question. Not because of the question, but because this wasn't the same script that dream Madeline followed every night.

"I-I err." Waylon stuttered, still in shock. Madeline scowled at him some more and pointed an accusatory spatula in his direction.

"You like the _other_ me don't you, the lizard one." She accused, and again Waylon became very confused. How did the dream Madeline know about that. Well, it was a dream conjured by Waylon's imagination so it was only natural that dream Madeline would be aware of everything going on the real world, but he'd never expected that his mind would give him _this_ situation to deal with in a dream.

"Of course not." Waylon blurted, desperate to say the right thing without even considering if his answer was true or not. He honestly had no idea what he liked anymore. Standing before dream Madeline felt real to him and the feelings of attraction he felt for her in the dream felt _real_. He found her human body extraordinarily beautiful and sexy, and all he wanted to do was hold her close and take her again and again until the end of time. But in this dream he was _normal_ looking, or at least normal _ish_ , and it was a dream after all. How would his _real_ body react in the real world to the human Madeline standing before him. Would he prefer the reptilian body? It would make sense that he'd be attracted to the form most similar to his own. Animal instincts and all that.

"So you think my new body is ugly then?" Madeline accused, looking even more irritated with him. Hang on a minute, why was _she_ annoyed. She was human, hadn't he given her the right answer.

"No, its..." Waylon began, but then he realised that Madeline hadn't been the one talking, the voice had come from behind him. He slowly turned around to see a rather threatening figure towering over him, snarling at him with rows of sharp teeth, tail thrashing about impatiently behind her.

"Madeline?" Waylon asked, confused yet again. The reptilian Madeline was standing before him now, they were both in the same room. But why? Why were they two different people. As Waylon stared in shock and with a bit of fear at the menacing figure. He examined her appearance. She was taller than him due to his dream form, and she didn't look sexy. She looked scary, intimidating, and not someone he wanted to get anywhere near. He felt human Madeline hook her arm in his and appear at his side.

"See, he's scared of you. I win." Human Madeline teased, poking her tongue out at the reptilian Madeline who just shrugged and gave a half smile.

"Not for long." She muttered, and then the room around them changed from the cosy little cabin to the dark sewer. The sudden transition combined with the switch in narrative made Waylon feel very disorientated. He looked around for human Madeline who had let go of his arm. He spotted her a few meters away from him, lying on the floor with her torso ripped open and her guts hanging out, her face so pale and cold she was most certainly dead.

"So, I'll ask again." The reptilian Madeline asked, sauntering forward and hooking her arm in Waylon's. "Do you think my new body is ugly." Waylon's body had switched to his usual monstrous form now so the reptilian Madeline was a little smaller than him. But as he looked at her new body through different eyes he saw her in a different light. She wasn't scary or monstrous, she didn't look like a monster. She looked sexy and wild, intimidating in the _right_ kind of way, the embodiment of her personality. She was someone he wanted to get close to very much so, and as he glanced at the dead human Madeline, he felt nothing. It was like his mind had decided they were two separate people. But why was it that when he had the human body he was attracted to one of them, and when he had Killer Croc's body he was attracted to the other. Wasn't he the same person? So why didn't he feel the same way.

"I'm waiting for my answer." Madeline teased, running her finger down Waylon's chest and sending shivers across Waylon's body. He didn't have any words to describe how gorgeous she looked, how sexy and unbelievably desirable.

"Come on Waylon." Madeline said, but it wasn't her voice speaking through her lips. It sounded different, male, almost like...

"Come on Waylon, wake up!" Riddler ordered, and Waylon opened his eyes with a start. Being yanked out of a dream was not a pleasant experience, especially one as confusing as that. He sat up and stared at his hands to make sure he was back in reality. Yep, monster hands, he was back. Oddly enough however, he hadn't expected to wake up still in the theatre. He would have thought the militia that took Madeline would have taken him too, but it seemed like they'd just knocked him out and left him there.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Riddler asked, stepping back a few paces as Waylon staggered to his feet.

"They took her, and knocked me out. The earpiece..." Waylon growled, spotting the frazzled earpiece on the ground.

"They released a short range EMP or something, that's why it burnt out. They obviously didn't want me listening in."

"It would have been helpful if you had. Maybe then you'd be able to figure out exactly who _they_ are." Waylon groaned, rubbing his ear. He was slightly deaf in one ear from the frazzling earpiece and Madeline's roar.

"The militia I saw on my camera weren't wearing any particularly identifiable gear so it's likely they work specifically for whoever is responsible for this whole mess we're in." Riddler theorized, his brilliant mind at work as per usual.

"Excuse me, mess ' _we're_ ' in. Last time I checked _you_ didn't have to deal with any of the messy stuff. I'm the one getting my neck bitten and knocked out in a god damn theatre." Waylon complained, crossing his arms and frowning at Riddler who had had the easy jobs this whole time.

"The only reason it's _messy_ is because we didn't have a plan. It's all been fairly reckless and last minute if you ask me." Riddler grumbled, sounding like he was blaming Waylon for all the failures they endured, and that annoyed Waylon quite a bit.

"Hey, how can we come up with a plan when we don't know where Madeline's going to show up. She pops up all over the city without warning in the most random places, how can we predict that." Waylon snapped, seeing no possible way they could make any sort of plan to capture Madeline, other than carrying around a chloroform rag or something.

Riddler paced up and down the stage for a bit, thinking and muttering to himself.

"We need to find a common similarity in all the places she'd appeared. There has to be _something_ linking them together." He thought, speaking his thoughts out loud since he didn't expect Waylon to have any sort of answer.

"There is no similarity." Waylon grumbled, stating the obvious as he took a seat on the edge of the stage. "Jewellery stores, theatres, aviaries and libraries. If there is a pattern it's super cryptic if you ask me."

"That's it!" Riddler blurted before Waylon had even finished his sentence. The triumphant riddle master whipped out his phone and put it one speaker as the dial tone rang.

"What's up?" Jack asked when he answered. Riddler seemed to have let him near the computers, a very rare thing for Riddler to do.

"Can you bring up all the locations your sister has appeared at." He ordered.

"What?" Waylon asked, confused as to what Riddler was trying to do.

"There isn't a pattern." Riddler beamed with an ecstatic look on his face similar to that of a child at Christmas. "It's a riddle. How I didn't see it before I don't know but it all makes sense now."

"Really?" Waylon questioned, raising a brow with uncertainty. "Because I'm still confused."

"Trust me on this." Riddler reassured, returning his attention to the phone. "Do you have them up?"

"Yeah. Gotham aviary, Tie The Knot jewellery store, Gotham Library, and Monarch Theatre." Jack confirmed. Again, Waylon couldn't see anyway those locations could lead to anything.

"Perfect. Give me info on the aviary first. Founders, bird species, that sort of thing." Riddler demanded, switching into genius mode.

"Just a sec... Ah, here we go. Commissioned by a Mr Lance Beagle to ' _educate Gotham on Darwin's theory of evolution_ ', his words. Contains numerous species of birds and a few reptiles..."

"That's all I need. Next. The jewellery store."

"Nothing special about that. It wasn't an especially big jewellery store or popular, involved in some shady business actually. Something about cutting stolen diamonds, rubies and emeralds, precious jewels and the like, down to size and making them into rings to sell to the public."

"Good. Next!" Riddler ordered. Waylon didn't feel like they were any closer to figuring out this _riddle_ , or whatever it was meant to be. All this extra information just made his head hurt. Still, Riddler was a genius, if anyone could figure out a pattern it was him.

"Gotham Library. Founded in 1862, one of the oldest buildings in Gotham..."

"I don't need any of that." Riddler cursed, pausing to think for a moment. Then an idea seemed to hit him and he looked to Waylon for the answer.

"What?" Waylon grumbled, unsure how he was going to be of any help.

"Do you remember anything about the library. Anything distinct or unusual."

"I dunno. I don't go in libraries much." Waylon growled. Yes yes, he was dumb, did he need to remind everyone.

"Any special stands or something? Like a new book in or an author of the week?" Riddler asked, sounding frustrated with Waylon's lack of cooperation. Waylon had to think for a minute.

"There was an Alice in Wonderland book stand that we knocked over." He remembered, not quite sure of its significance.

"Which book?"

"Alice in Wonderland."

"No, the first book or the second book?"

"I dunno, I don't read kiddies books."

Or any books for that matter.

"Edward I got it." Jack interrupted down the phone line. "It was the second one."

"Thank you." Riddler applauded, sounding exasperated. "Now for the theatre."

Riddler took a moment to look around the theatre, scanning the posters on the wall for a clue. It didn't take him long to find something that made his eyes light up. He quickly tore down a poster for an upcoming performance and rushed back over to Waylon and the phone with it.

"The performance on is Animal Farm!" He announced, as if _that_ was the answer they'd been looking for. Waylon stared at Riddler dumb founded. This didn't help them, did it? Sensing Waylon's confusing, Riddler sighed with frustration but everyone knew he was glad no one else understood the connection, giving him the opportunity to explain it and show of his brilliance.

"The aviary. Commissioned to teach Gotham about Darwin's theory of evolution. The man who commissioned it is called Beagle, the same as the HMS Beagle that took Charles Darwin to the Galapagos islands where he observed the evolutionary difference in the beak shape of birds."

"Okay that helps us how?" Waylon grumbled, too much information being thrown at him at once and becoming even more confused if that was even possible.

"The most famous bird for observing this were the finches, however, he did also look at _Mimus thenca_."

"The what now?"

"The Chilean Mocking bird!" Jack answered, sounding like he had just answered the million dollar question.

"Yes! But no points to you because you have Google." Riddler added quickly. Waylon could practically feel a gear in his brain click into place and start turning. A mocking bird.

"You're getting it now." Riddler said, looking very pleased with himself for making the dumb crocodile think for once. "The jewellery store made rings from stolen jewels. Diamond rings. And the second Alice in Wonderland book is Alice Through the _Looking Glass_."

"It's the song." Waylon realised, all the pieces of the puzzle fitting together and making him feel stupid for not noticing it sooner. How could he have noticed, they were pretty obscure connections. Still, the answer only managed to raise more questions. Why was Madeline appearing in locations that matched up with the lullaby. Or rather, why were the people that took her from him making her go to these places. Was this why she hadn't liked it when Waylon tried to calm her down with the song?

"I almost didn't understand it, but then I remembered you tried to sing that song before in your fight. And look..." Riddler hurried, shoving the poster for Animal Farm in Waylon's face. "On the poster. There is a billy goat, and a bull pulling a cart."

"So where is she going to show up next? A dog pound?" Waylon asked, unable to think of anything else to do with a dog named Rover.

"I got something" Jack interrupted, typing away on the other end of the line. "There is a car show in Gotham tomorrow night. Classic cars from the 60s, and one of the prize cars on show is a P5." Both Waylon and Riddler stared at the phone with confusion. Neither of them knew much about cars. Jack groaned with frustration.

"A P5 is a car made by MG Rover Group, the old car manufacturer before they went bust."

"The car show will go on late into the night though, will she show up with all those people around?" Waylon wondered. So far, Madeline's appearances had stayed fairly under the radar. Would she really show up in such a crowded venue?

"Perhaps. Each time she's shown up she's done something different." Riddler theorized, pacing back and forth across the stage. "In the jewellery store she'd wrecked the place, and in the library she'd been very careful until Waylon engaged her in a fight. In _that_ fight she'd been on the defensive and made a quick escape, but this time she'd been the one waiting for him and was on the offensive. Each time she's appeared there has been no real goal other than to get to that location and get out again."

"It's almost like each of them were little field tests." Jack added over the phone.

"Yes, but with all those people around what are they testing. Her ability to get in and out undetected?"

"Or her ability to slaughter them all." Waylon suggested grimly, and the look on Riddler's face told him that for once _he_ was right. Waylon didn't want to be right about it though. He didn't want Madeline to have blood on her hands. Sure, if it were him he wouldn't have any qualms with slaughtering a room full of innocent people. He wouldn't even blink. Besides, anyone who attended classic car shows had to be corrupt in _some_ way with all the money they had. But he didn't want Madeline to be like him, even if she had been turned into a creature _like_ him. The emotional numbness and distance from humanity that came with acting like a monster was a horrible feeling. It wasn't like Madeline was permanently turned into a monster though, they'd turned her back with that ' _gene deactivation dosage_ '. There was still a chance that after all of this Madeline could go back to being perfectly normal. It also got Waylon thinking. If they'd turned Madeline into a monster like him and then turned her back, could they turn _him_ back too?

"We need to come up with a plan to capture her before she kills anyone." Riddler announced, clapping his hands together in sudden determination and snapping Waylon out of his thoughts.

"How do we set a trap in a crowded room?" Waylon grumbled, getting to his feet as they headed to the door.

"Let me worry about that. All I need you to do is rest up and prepare for a fight with _all_ of Gotham's heroes. Once the attendees catch sight of a 10ft tall naked female lizard, you can bet that Nightwing, Robin and all the other batspawn in existence will coming running to capture her as well as the GCPD task force and those private militia."

Waylon groaned at the prospect of fighting all those people. He just wanted to get Madeline away from it all and be with her again, was that too much to ask from the universe. Sadly the universe had other plans, including forcing him to ask the question, _which_ Madeline did he want to be with.

As they headed out of the door of the theatre Riddler stayed on the phone to Jack. He'd switched the speaker phone off so the phone was against his ear.  
"Get the analysis program up and running and replay the footage from the fight. See if you can figure out any patterns in her attack patterns or a weakness we can expose." Riddler ordered, sounding kind of pleased that he had a little assistant. There was a pause and then Riddler handed the phone to Waylon.

"He wants to talk to you for a sec." Riddler said plainly as he dropped the phone into Waylon's hand. Waylon stared at it as if it were a bomb about to go off. He hated technology. It was all so confusing and getting smaller and smaller by the day. Small phones were not good when you had claws for hands.

"About what?" Waylon grumbled as he held the phone between his finger and thumb, careful not the drop the thing. Riddler shrugged and walked across to the road to look for a taxi. Waylon always found it odd that a smart guy like Riddler didn't have a drivers licence.

"What do you want?" Waylon growled, holding the phone carefully to his one good ear.

"All the locations my sister has shown up in all tie in to the Hush Little Baby song." Jack explained. "She used to sing that song to me when I was scared to calm me down."

"Yeah, me too." Waylon confessed dismally, he really wanted to hear Madeline sing that intoxicating song again, just for another taste of complete and utter peace.

"Well it's weird don't you think. Say the people who turned her into that lizard thing are making her go to these places, how do _they_ know about the song and its significance. It's a little to coincidental to be... well, coincidence."

"Yeah. Something fishy is going on with all of this. See if you can dig up any answers and I'll ask around to see if anyone knows anything." Waylon suggested, remembering what that city official, Twoface had interrogated, mentioned about a large sum of money being taken out of the Gotham bank for an unknown purpose. Perhaps the schizophrenic lawyer had cracked the case on what was going on.

"There's one more thing too that makes it all even _more_ suspiciously coincidental." Jack added just before Waylon hung up the phone. "It's seriously freaky and makes me question just how much our lives are controlled by some omnipotent puppeteer in the shadows."

"What?" Waylon groaned, slightly annoyed with all the grim poetics. Why couldn't people just be plain and simple?

"The cemetery Madeline was _supposedly_ buried in, _Mère l'Oye_ Cemetery."

"Yeah?"

" _Mère l'Oye_ is French for Mother Goose. Like the fictional author. There is a theory that the person behind Mother Goose was the wife of Robert II of France, Bertha, who was known for telling stories that enchanted children."

"Can you get to the point. It's cold out here and I'm tired." Waylon grumbled. Jack was as bad as Riddler with all the exposition. Why did he have to pry the answer from them _all_ the time. Especially since this was about Madeline, he didn't want to waste a second on background information.

"Mother Goose is the fictional author who published the Hush Little Baby song." Jack explained, sounding half excited and half freaked out. Waylon certainly felt freaked out. That was way to convenient for it just be coincidence.

"And get this, the cemetery has been around for over a hundred years, well before Madeline was even born." Jack added, just adding more information to the mix. Waylon's head was spinning with all the confusion and that only irritated him. He wanted answers, and he'd been wanting those answers for a while now, and the longer they were kept from him, the more irritated he became. He needed to find Madeline and punish those responsible for turning her into their little Subject 3871.

Madeline woke up back in her cell. Her head was pounding and her body felt incredibly sore, but the strange thing was she felt more horny than anything else. She sat up and looked around her room with curiosity, why did she feel this way?

"You awake?" Jason asked as Madeline got to her feet and walked up to the glass.

"Yeah. I feel weird." Madeline confessed. No way was she going to tell him what _weird_ meant though.

"You remember anything?" Jason queered half heartedly, he knew the answer was no.

"Only getting injected with something and feeling like I got hit by a bus." She sighed. She crossed her legs and rubbed them together as she stood, her hands on the glass. Damn she was turned on. Why? And more importantly, what could help her relieve it. There was a big fucking glass door that left her cell completely exposed to everyone else, no privacy.

She heard footsteps and quickly hurried back to her bed. Sure enough, the woman in the hazmat suit and her entourage appeared. The group let their boss out of the circle and step up the glass door of Madeline's cell.

"You did rather well today." The woman congratulated, again sounding like a proud parent. "You showed adept ferocity and skill. However, you didn't really think a lot during the fight. We shall have to improve on that for the final field test." Madeline was intrigued. A fight huh? Was she to be used as some sort of weapon then if they were making her fight on the field test? From what she had gathered she suspected that each field test had been for different abilities, like stealth one day, speed the next, and sheer violence in-between. It was almost like they were preparing her for something big. A final test, all abilities thrown in together.

The woman seemed to chuckle a little all of a sudden, which both confused and angered Madeline.

"What's so funny?" Madeline growled, crossing her legs as she felt a need to attend to her womanly desires.

"We will have to work on how flirtatious you are as well." The woman chuckled. "Poor Waylon, he could hardly keep his head straight with you acting the way you do." Madeline felt her heart stop in her chest and her breath catch itself and hold tight in her lungs. Waylon? Where? When? Had she seen him when she'd been turned into whatever it was they turned her into. Had he known it was her? What had they done instead of fighting. So many questions and no answers to speak of.

The woman turned to leave.

"Wait!" Madeline called out, hurrying to the glass door. "Where is he? If you've done anything to him I swear I'll..."

"He's fine." The woman answered plainly, but then a grin seemed to find its way into her voice. "For now. After tomorrow's final field test however... Well, we'll just have to wait and see won't we?" The woman walked off and did not give Madeline an answer to any of the other questions she was screaming. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she curled up on the floor, sobbing quietly. She was so confused and afraid. What was going on? What was going to happen to her? What was going to happen to Waylon?

 **They figured out the Riddle, but can they set a trap, and how does this secret organisation know about the Hush little baby song. So many questions and I don't even have the answers for them. Please let me know what you think in the reviews section. Keep an eye out for the update.**

 **Also, thinking of plans for my next fan fiction since this one doesn't get another sequel (other than a couple skits or something) what do we think about a Roxy Rocket and Firefly fan fiction. Now I know its not a big dumb overly muscular idiot like Killer Croc or King Shark (like we like) but it has some potential to be more emotionally evocative and stuff. That or a King Shark X Killer Frost fan fiction continued from the events of Assault on Arkham (with King Shark's head intact of course) but I don't know how much mileage I can get out of that one.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Edward Nygma was not a fan of big crowds or open spaces, and a car show had both in high number. The open showroom was filled with people in their finery milling about with glasses of champagne in hand and smug expressions on their faces. They were Gotham's elite, the most important families in the city, minus the Wayne family of course. They were rich and powerful people who never left their little bubble of finery, the mayor and his officials in tow. There were those who ran big businesses and industries, some of which had worked their way to the top over the years but most had just inherited them from their fathers. The only decent human beings at this event were the waiters, everyday people who could only hope to catch a glimpse of this life through service, and the token invites like the Police Commissioner.

Edward spotted said Police Commissioner a few feet away from him and quickly turned to hurry over into another corner. It had been a while since anyone had seen his face and knowing the types of people at this event, they'd never really remembered it in the first place. That combined with a haircut and a bit of a cleanup, a nice suit and god awful cologne, he was practically a different person. For the purposes of their plan, he was a new person, just another wealthy Gotham elite come to see the car show who just happened to be walking around with an earpiece that allowed him to communicate with an 11ft tall crocodile.

"You remember the plan?" Edward whispered, turning away from the crowd for a moment to pretend to adjust his tie. It had been a while since he'd worn such a fine suit, and he wasn't going to pretend he didn't like it. He only wished it were his green Riddler suit and not a boring old black one. At least he had a green tie, all be it the wrong shade of green.

"Yeah." Croc growled back, his voice kind of hard to understand due to its gravely nature. Edward always had to pay extra attention when talking to him to figure out exactly what Croc had said and how he had said it. If he misjudged the tone he might fall prey to a crocodile temper tantrum. How had Madeline managed it?

"Are you in position?" He asked, doing a quick check to see if anyone was watching him talking to himself.

"Yeah, I'm on the roof. Don't understand why, but I'm on the roof." Croc growled. Edward glanced up at the ceiling. The roof of the car show room was glass, reinforced of course but it wasn't be difficult for Waylon to break through.

"We checked the schematics but the building is new so there are no connecting tunnels like in the older buildings." Jack added, also on the same line. Edward had put him in charge of the technical side of the operation. He would have preferred to be doing that part himself but the plan called for someone on the ground who wasn't an 11ft tall crocodile, and he couldn't send Jack in because the kid was too young and not capable of pulling off being from the upper-class.

"So how do we get out again?" Croc asked, forgetting parts of the plan already. Riddler sighed with frustration, how many times did they have to go over this.

"Once Madeline shows up everyone will go into a panic and head for the doors, once most of them are out I will hit the emergency lock down button to seal us in, then Jack will hack into the city grid and kill the power. The locks are on a separate system but the garage doors at the back are linked up to the main power grid so they'll be easy for _you_ to open. If we get this done quickly we won't have to deal with the GCPD but if we do there won't be too much interference from them at the back entrance because the area is quite confined with lots of cars in the way. There is a bit of a ways to go before the first sewer entrance but those roads should be fairly quiet with the odd..."

"Excuse me, _monsieur_?" A stranger asked, startling Edward a little too much for him to seem inconspicuous. Still, he tried his best to regain his composure and spun around, but nothing could compare him or his composure for the stunning beauty before him. His jaw _almost_ literally dropped but to save himself from looking like a fool he clenched it shut.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and _that_ was a big complement coming from him. He had never really been that interested in women before, not that he was gay, he just didn't really put them on his list of priorities. That list had become rather small since Batman's demise, so perhaps they had crept onto it without him realising, or perhaps this woman was _that_ beautiful she had forced her way onto it. Regardless, she was stunning. Auburn hair tied in a loose bun with strands lightly curling by the side of her face, leaving just enough of ear uncovered to reveal the extravagant and most likely very expensive rosy coloured earrings. Her eyes were blue, a crystalline blue that could almost be considered silver in the right light, but never grey. Her nose was straight and very elfin in appearance, her lips slightly thinner but more delicate and regal than that of American girls, and her cheek bones rivalling that of _Angelina Jolie_. She was very thin and willowy but not to the extent that she looked sick, her collarbone pronounced in a way that made her seem even more regal and refined Her dress was tight a tight fitting, scarlet dress with a slit up on leg, and very tall heels that made her slightly taller than Edward. Without them it was likely she'd be the same height, if not a little bit shorter, but still very tall. Some would have considered her to be too thin to be attractive, but Edward thought she was gorgeous.

"Erm, yes?" Edward stuttered after he realised he'd be staring in awe at her for a little too long. "Can I help you?" He didn't really know how he was supposed to talk to this woman, any woman really, let alone a regal heiress.

"Actually, _monsieur_ , I was wondering if I could help you?" She asked, her accent heavenly to listen to. So refined and elegant, the voice of class itself.

"With what?" Edward asked with caution. What did he do? What did he do? Had she perhaps seen him talking to himself like a mad man. She probably thought he was a mad man. But then why had she come over to talk to him.

"You look to be struggling with your tie." She beamed with a glowing smile, gesturing to Edward's tie. In his attempt to seem busy by adjusting his tie over and over again he had in fact made it look rather messy, as if tied by a common thug and not the great Riddler.

"Oh yes. Stubborn thing, can't get it right." Edward laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head but then quickly returning his hand to his side after realising that a gentleman wouldn't do such a thing.

"Allow me." The French lady said, and went to fix the tie. Her hands were also delicately thin and elegant as they took the soft fabric of the tie and wrapped it around in an almost erotic way, at least Edward thought it was erotic, but that was because he had never gotten laid before.

"My name is _La Demoiselle Adalicia Dubois_. And you?" The French lady asked as she pedantically smoothed out every crease in the fabric and ensured its perfection. A perfectionist, even more wonderful.

"Edward Nygm..." Edward began, only realising that he was going to blow his cover when he was too far into his name to change it. "...Nygmobblepot. Yes, Edward Nygmobblepot." He announced, feeling quite insulted by his own _lack of_ intelligence. What a stupid name.

"Nygmobblepot?" Adalicia clarified, also seeming to find it stupid. "How very strange."

"Yes well, it's just one of those names." Edward laughed awkwardly again. "You know, you may not like them but once you're given them you're stuck with them." The conversation was going nowhere, and now that she had finished fixing his tie Adalicia was looking at him expectantly. Edward didn't really know what to do in this situation, so he did the thing he did best.

"What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?" Edward blurted out before he realised what he was saying. Great, now she was going to think he was a weird freak who was obsessed with riddles. Well, he was a weird freak who was obsessed with riddles, but she didn't _need_ to know that. Oddly enough, instead of looking at him as if he were an alien and then hurrying away back to the land of sanity, Adalicia smiled and her eyes lit up with excitement.

"A riddle? Oh my how fun." She gasped, clapping a little with joy. "Let's see now..." She thought for a moment and during that moment Edward watched her with awe. She was stunningly beautiful _and_ liked riddles, had someone made her for him. This was all very strange, but too wonderful for him to be bothered about it.

"I have it." She announced suddenly, snapping Edward out of his adoring gaze. " _La rivière_." She announced and looked to Edward for his approval.

"Yes, that is correct." He applauded. Okay, it was an easy one, but it still only took her a few seconds.

"Another another." Adalicia pleaded, moving close and resting her hands on Edwards chest. It made his spine tingle and a shiver of delight rush through him. He had to keep it together though.

"Alright. Let's see. My first is often at the front door. My second is found in the cereal family. My third is what most people want. My whole is one of the united states. What am I?" Edward asked, using one of his hardest and most complicated riddles. He certainly wouldn't reject her if she couldn't figure this one out, but if she did he might just fall in love.

Adalicia took a little longer with this riddle, thinking about it for quite some time and muttering to herself in French as she did so.

"You having fun there?" Croc asked with an irritated tone. Either he was frustrated with having to wait so long for Madeline to show, or jealous that Edward had such a beautiful woman to talk to. Edward was aware of the gravity of the situation that was about to occur when Madeline showed up and he needed to be one his toes, but Adalicia was a once in a life time find. She probably didn't even live in Gotham, so he might never see her again. Still, who did _she_ think he was, a wealthy businessman or something? How would she feel if she knew the truth. How would she react if she found out he was not a regal lord or refined gentleman, but a borderline narcissistic, obsessive compulsive, attention-seeking egomaniac criminal mastermind? Then again, if Madeline had fallen in love with a cannibalistic crocodile man, surely it wasn't _that_ farfetched for Adalicia to get over a little bit of crazy.

"Matrimony." Adalicia answered dreamily, catching Edward off guard again, this time surprising him with her answer. She'd gotten it right.

"Wow." Edward gasped, not able to hide his shock for the sake of seeming gentlemanly anymore. "That's correct." Adalicia laughed with delight.

"Oh _monsieur_ , your riddles are _très bien_. Tell me, what do you do for a living?" Adalicia asked, and Edward went pale. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit! Crap, what did _he_ do for a living?

"Yeah Edward." Croc added, seeming like he was trying to ruin this situation for him on purpose. "What _do_ you do for a living." Adalicia was looking at him, expectant for an answer with a genuine smile on her face. She was really curious about him, in a good way, and seemed to genuinely want to know about him. Edward felt his heart pounding like crazy in his chest, partially due to his anxiety from being in such a crowded room and partially because of Adalicia. He'd never felt like this before. He told himself over and over again that it was just oxytocin, nothing more than chemicals going haywire in his brain. But if it was just in his brain then why did he feel it in his chest.

"Robotic engineering." Edward announced quickly. It wasn't a lie. He did engineer robots, just for criminal purposes."

"Oh my, that is _incroyable_. You are so intelligent." Adalicia confessed, sounding genuinely impressed. "Oh it is wonderful to speak to a man of intellect. So many men today are so obsessed with the body, that they forget to improve the mind." Adalicia sounded so forlorn with the state of affairs, but her words made Edward feel very good about himself. He was certainly no Hercules.

"Yes. A lot of people are mere brutes nowadays." Edward announced rather loudly so that Croc heard him. As he expected, he received a growl of irritation. He might have to pay for that later, but his ego certainly felt that it was worth it.

"Oh, _monsieur_ , you will have to join me next week at the museum." Adalicia added quickly, an idea popping into her head. "There is a lecture about the galaxy and beyond by one of my favourite scientists."

"Oh, so you are a astronomer?" Edward asked, curious as to know how much of an astronomer she was, and if that included stupid star sign rubbish.

"Oh no." Adalicia confessed regretfully. "I do not have a profession. My family do not believe it suitable for a lady to study science. Only literature and art."

"Still noble things." Edward added quickly, falling instantly for the trapped princess narrative. "But you _love_ science?"

"Oh yes. I try to attend as many lectures as I can. Especially while I am in Gotham." Adalicia beamed, a smile from ear to ear. "So, will you come with me?"

Edward had been about to answer when there was a loud bang followed by an almighty roar. Adalicia's immediate response was to cling to Edward for dear life, but unfortunately, Edward had to head towards the danger. He turned his head to see Madeline who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, standing atop one of the vintage cars and glaring at the fleeing crowd with bloodlust in her eyes.

"Come monsieur, we must run." Adalicia pleaded, trying to drag Edward along with the crowd to the exit. He wanted to go with her so badly, but he had a job to do.

"I have to go." He blurted out, trying to sound heroic. He didn't have time to try and convince her to let him go, and pulled his arm free from her grip. Without him to hold onto, Adalicia was swept away in the crowd towards the exit as Edward ran towards the control room. On his way he bumped into a couple of people and nearly knocked an old lady over as he collided with her, but continued onwards to the security room where the lock down controls were.

Waylon dropped down through the glass and landed on his feet with a heavy thud. It wasn't too bad of a fall, he'd survived worse. As he landed, Madeline, who had been about to make her first kill, snarled at his interruption. Waylon growled back, although he didn't really know if this was a form of communication or just aggression. So long as he kept Madeline's attention away from the fleeing civilians, it was fine with him.

"You aren't getting away from me this time." He warned, trying to sound menacing but it just came out as desperate. It was true though, he was determined to catch her and keep her with him. He had lost her too many times, and not just since she'd been turned into a reptilian creature, every time in their relationship that things had just started going well he'd lost her. It wasn't going to happen again.

Madeline had other ideas, and charged straight for him. She ducked to the right as Waylon went to grab her by the neck and twisted her body around to come up on his left side and take a bite out of his neck. Waylon had expected her to try such a thing and bent backwards so she missed and fell forwards in front of him. As she did so, he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side and holding her tight. He wasn't going to be able to hold her for long though.

"Hurry up and lock us in." He snapped down the line to Riddler who should have been near the controls.

"Just a second." Riddler replied, sounding like he was trying to work out the controls. It shouldn't be too hard for him, unless he was still distracted by that French lady he'd been flirting with.

There was a _clunk_ sound, and the roller doors began to lower over the doors and windows as the last few people hurried out, scrambling in all their finery like commoners. Waylon lost his grip on Madeline and suffered greatly as her heel collided with his crotch. He tried not to buckle over but that took all of his effort. Fortunately, Madeline had noticed the lockdown and seemed to be a little worried about it as she hurried from window to door, trying to pull them up and escape. It was a good sign, she was intelligent enough to notice when she was trapped, so perhaps she was still in there somewhere.

"You aren't getting out." Waylon growled, the pain in his groin finally subsiding but he didn't feel like he could do much more than stand and growl. Madeline spun around and snarled at him, a more vicious but defensive growl. She knew she was trapped and she knew he was responsible.

Before any more fighting insured, the lights flicked off, startling Madeline and giving Waylon the opportunity to make the first move. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough to utilized that opportunity to its fullest and Madeline got over the initial black out shock faster than he'd anticipated. He felt all air escape him as a very expensive vintage car collided with his gut and sent him flying back, crashing into the wall.

"Urgh." He grunted as he heaved the wreck off himself. "Edward, I thought you said she wasn't built for this sort of stuff?"

"I did." Edward said through the earpiece, but Waylon could also hear him faintly to the side of the room in the door way, ready for the next part of the plan. "She must be stronger than we thought."

"Good to know." Waylon hissed sarcastically as another car flew his way. Madeline wasn't strong enough to throw cars like basket balls, it took her a sizeable amount of time to lift them over her head and throw them. This gave Waylon a bit of time to figure out where the car was going to fly.

One came hurtling at him at top speed and he moved to the side just in time to avoid being hit by it. He was still close enough however, to grab the car by its spoiler, using the force of the throw to spin himself around and throw it back with more speed and more force. It was too fast for Madeline to dodge and the car hit her in the side, knocking her to the ground rather than driving her into the wall. Waylon felt a pang of regret when Madeline hit the floor. He hadn't really thought that through. She was still moving though, all be it injured, so he hadn't killed her again.

"I got the knock out serum ready." Riddler reminded through the earpiece. "Pin her down so I can knock her out." Riddler had taken a sample of the stuff they'd used to knock out Madeline and Waylon in the theatre from Waylon's bloodstream while Waylon had been unconscious. The only part of his body that could actually be penetrated by a needle was his tongue so it was likely Madeline would be the same. He had to pin her down and keep her mouth open since Ridder didn't have a high powered dart gun to use. It was going to be difficult and they'd have to act quickly.

Waylon put his arm on the back of Madeline's neck and pinned her to the ground as she was still recovering from being hit by a car. Luckily she wasn't doing the writhing thing again so he was able to maintain his concentration. He used his bodyweight to keep her pinned down as he levered her jaws open, holding her head back and pulling her bottom jaw down so she couldn't close her mouth.

"Hurry it up!" Waylon snapped as Riddler hurried over with his syringe in hand.

"Please don't let her snap her jaws shut." Riddler asked politely, looking very worried for his own safety.

"If you want to keep your arm then you better do it quickly." Waylon growled, struggling to keep her mouth open. Riddler cautiously but quickly put his hand in Madeline's mouth and pricked the needle into her tongue. As expected, the sudden pain caused Madeline to struggle more forcefully, the effect of being hit by the car starting to wear off. To his credit, Riddler didn't retract his hand as she started struggling and continued to inject the serum, all be it looking as pale as a ghost and sweating profusely as he did so.

"You'll want to hurry up. I'm losing my grip." Waylon growled. He was certainly strong enough to hold Madeline's mouth open, but it was managing that strength that he found difficult. He always struggled with restraining himself, hence why he'd hurled that car a little too forcefully at her. If he used any more strength to hold Madeline's mouth open he ran the risk of dislocating her jaw or even ripping it off all together.

"Almost... There!" Riddler cheered, and quickly yanked his hand out as Madeline's jaw's snapped shut. He hurried away back to safety and Waylon let Madeline go. She scurried away from them and snarled and hissed as she tried to get the taste of the serum out of her mouth. It was fast working stuff and her movement began to slow as she slipped in and out of consciousness. Then, she was overcome by the serum and fell into a deep sleep. Waylon caught her before she hit the ground and the feeling of holding her limp body in his arms was all too familiar to be comfortable. But at least he had her now, and she wasn't dead this time. She was alive and he could finally get her to safety.

"GCPD are closing in. You need to get out of there now." Jack interrupted through the earpiece. Waylon carried Madeline to the doors at the back and gentle lay her down as he heaved it up and open. Riddler was first out surprisingly enough and instead of following the road to the sewer entrance they were going to take to get back to Pinckney Orphanage he took a right.

"Where are you going?" Waylon asked, confused as he scooped Madeline up again. He could hear sirens in the distance. He did _not_ want to have to rescue Riddler again.

"I'm just going to check that everyone made it out okay." He lied. He was a really bad liar.

"You're going to check on that French girl aren't you?" Waylon guessed, and if it had been a game show he would have most certainly taken home first prize.

"I just want to make sure she's okay. That way she doesn't get anyone to look for me." Riddler explained. He didn't need to justify himself. He wanted to get laid, it was simple as that.

"Whatever." Waylon sighed, he wasn't really all that interested in what Riddler wanted. _He_ just wanted to get Madeline to safety before the GCPD showed up and tried to lock them both up in Arkham.

As Croc hurried away in Madeline in his arms Edward quickly moved around the perimeter of the building to the front where a crowd had gathered. The owners of the building and the cars as well as the GCPD, fire brigade, ambulance, and curious onlookers. He did a quick scan of the crowd for the beautiful Adalicia. It didn't take him long to spot her, she stood out like an angel in a choir, standing close to the police tape and looking at the building she believed Edward was still trapped inside with genuine concern and dread on her face. She really cared about him didn't she? He very cautiously slipped into the crowd undetected and moved over to Adalicia. He lightly tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around with a start. Her face turned from worry to wondrous relief and without warning she flung her arms around him.

"Oh _monsieur_ Edward, you are alright! I was so worried." She cried, holding onto him tight. Edward felt a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest and lungs, a calming warmth. He wasn't used to someone showing genuine concern for him, but it felt wonderful. Adalicia pulled away and scowled at him, but her expression was caught part way between irritated and impressed.

"Why did you do that?" She demanded with the cutest irritated voice Edward had ever heard. "You could have been killed."

"I know. I had to go and turn on the emergency lock down so the _creature_ , whatever it was, couldn't escape and wreak havoc." Edward blurted, making it up as he went along. Regardless, Adalicia was impressed.

"Oh you brave brave fool." She applauded and scolded at the same time. "Don't ever do that again. You are not Batman."

Edward noticed some of the GCPD nearing closer to where they were standing. Any one of them could easily identify him. He needed to leave.

"Listen, Adalicia. I have to go. When is this lecture at the museum?"

"Next Monday, but why do you have to leave?" Adalicia asked, looking puzzled and worried.

"I'll meet you there at 6 o'clock." Edward added quickly, not answering Adalicia's question. He wanted to kiss her but didn't think the time was right so he hurried off into the crowd and then out of it across the street and back to Pinckney Orphanage to deal with another woman of a different kind.

 **I'm sorry this took so long. I could make something up about me being busy or having a family crisis or being sick (which I was for a couple days) but in all honesty I've just been playing a lot of fallout 4**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Madeline snarled and roared, snapped and growled, and hissed and howled as she lay strapped to the chair. It was a huge chair especially designed for creatures like Madeline and Waylon. In fact, it was the same on from the Iron Heights prison airship Waylon had been experimented on before he caused it to crash into the Gotham River. Some scrappers had fished it out and it had been sold around Gotham in the underground markets for quite some time. Riddler had found it for sale and purchased it in time for Madeline's unwilling arrival at the Pinckney Orphanage. It was the perfect thing to keep her restrained, but seeing her struggling in vain to escape, pulling on the leather straps and thrashing her head about as she snapped at the air gave Waylon a chilling feeling right down to his bones. He hated seeing her like this. She was more animal than person, she didn't even act the slightest bit like the woman he loved.

"So what do we do now?" Riddler asked, standing next to Waylon as they watched Madeline try to break her bonds. They hadn't thought this far ahead yet and neither of them had any clue as to how they were going to return Madeline to her sanity. Riddler was smart but his expertises was robotics and technology, and while he did know a bit about the brain he was no physiatrist. Waylon did attempt to provide Riddler with an answer and ignored the question entirely, instead stepping forward and going as close to Madeline as he could get without her biting his face off.

"Madeline, it's me. Come on, you know me." He coaxed, begging her to somehow regain control over her mind, even if for a second. He knew that when _he_ lost it reason never really worked to bring him back, but that was usually because he was too busy wreaking havoc to listen. He kind of wanted to try the lullaby song again but judging by her reaction last time it wouldn't help much, especially if she had to listen to _his_ rendition again. As expected Madeline didn't suddenly return to her normal self but continued to snap and growl in protest of her restraint.

"Well that was helpful." Riddler sighed, and Waylon shot him a cruel glare. He was not in the mood for sarcasm. Riddler put his hands up in surrender and cautiously moved forward towards Madeline as well. He hopped up onto the table Waylon had dragged over since the restraining chair was so high up and Madeline was so tall poor Riddler was dwarfed by it all. He was careful not to get too close to Madeline's face but he did his best to examine her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Waylon growled, wary of anyone, _even_ Riddler, getting too close to Madeline. No one was allowed close to her but him.

"It's amazing what the eyes can tell you." Riddler said casually, an off the hand comment. "But these eyes aren't showing signs of intelligent life. I don't know if there is anything in there."

"There has to be!" Waylon growled, a little too loudly and a little too abruptly to hide his panic. There had to be something inside her, a shred of her humanity left to bring to the surface. They'd turned her back into a human when they'd recaptured her at the theatre, she had to have her mind when she was back in human form. There had to be a way to get her human mind into her monster body.

There came loud banging from the doors to the basement and both of them turned to look at the metal doors they had bared shut.

"Let me in!" Jack demanded, hitting the doors from the other side with all his might. Riddler had turned the basement into a makeshift holding cell, but before he had done that it was originally the remains of Waylon's old room when he still lived at Pinckney Orphanage before the _incident_ with Riddler. It had been one of the better places he'd lived in over the years, perhaps even better than his warehouse, although the lack of access to water could get a little annoying. The Wi-Fi had made it worthwhile though.

"I told you to keep an eye on the monitors!" Riddler ordered, scowling at the door as if it were Jack. They had decided it would be best to keep Jack away from Madeline until they restored her humanity, just in case the sight of seeing his sister acting like a monster tipped him over the edge. He was only young after all. Of course Jack had objected to this idea and was determined to see his sister regardless of how many locked got in his way. Thankfully, a locked door was all that was needed to keep him out.

"If I monitor the monitors does that not make me the monitor!" Jack protested in some feeble attempt to seem intellectual. Riddler rolled his eyes.

"Yes it does, so be a good monitor and go sit in my office!" Riddler snapped. There was a loud bang as Jack kicked the metal door, followed by faint cursing as he stomped back up the stairs to the office. Riddler sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience tested.

"Can we just get rid of him already?" He grumbled, clearly at his wits end. Waylon was quite glad he didn't have to deal with Jack anymore. Not that Madeline was any easier to deal with. Madeline continued to grow and hiss at them but at least she had stopped snapping her jaws wildly once she'd seen that it was getting her nowhere.

"So who do we know in Gotham that can help with this sort of thing?" Riddler pondered, pulling out his phone to look at the contact list. It was amazing he had anyone's contact number, most people found him too annoying to deal with.

"What about Jervis, he does hypnosis or something doesn't he." Waylon suggested. He'd never really had much to do with Mad Hatter, or really seen the guy all that often, but he did remember watching something on TV a while back about hypnosis being used to help people remember things. Perhaps it could help Madeline remember who she was. Riddler didn't seem to impressed by the idea though.

"He's a bit crazy though isn't he?" Riddler suggested, trying to suggest the idea was a bad one. Waylon couldn't help but chuckle a little at what Riddler had said.

"Crazy? Aren't we all crazy?" He snorted, crossing his arms. As much as they argued they weren't insane, and as much as they hated Arkham, they were all at the very least a little crazy.

"Yes well I'm more of a ' _Mad Scientist_ ' kind of crazy." Riddler announced, not willing to put himself in the same category as Mad Hatter. "He's just... crazy. But I suppose it's worth a try."

"Okay, put him on the short list. Who else we got?" Waylon asked, not really sure who else in Gotham had professions aside from being criminals that could help their situation. "What about Scarecrow? Isn't he a doctor or something?"

"Yeah but he seems to have dropped off the map. Besides, last time we saw him he was scared of everything, I doubt he could help with giant crocodile lady over here." Riddler sighed, gesturing to Madeline who seemed to snarl back at him for the insult. "We could always try Harley."

"Harley?" Waylon queried, unsure on Riddler's thinking behind that suggestion. "How in the hell could Harley help."

"She used to be a psychiatrist at Arkham, remember? Before she went all ' _crazy in love_ ' for Joker." Riddler reminded, and Waylon did vaguely remember learning about that. That whole drama had happened shortly after he'd moved to Gotham and been hired by Black Mask, or rather Joker disguised as Black Mask. It was likely the reason Joker had escaped from Arkham the first time was because he'd convinced Harley to let him out after seducing her or doing whatever it was he did to make her fall for him.

"Depends on what she's doing now though?" Riddler added with dismay. "She might not _want_ to help, regardless of if she can."

"If she doesn't _want_ to help then I'll _make_ her help." Waylon growled, perfectly fine with beating up anyone, even Harley, if it meant he could restore Madeline's sanity.

"I'll call her. She should be still in Gotham. I heard a rumour that she moved in with Catwoman." Riddler said with a slight hint of disapproval in his tone. He and Catwoman had a bit of bad history. Just over three and a half years ago during the crisis with Scarecrow and the Arkham Knight, Riddler had captured Catwoman and held her hostage with a series of puzzles laid out for Batman to solve in order to save her. As per usual, Batman had solved them all and freed Catwoman, then they had both taken Riddler down, destroying his mech suit and throwing him in the GCPD lock up. Waylon wasn't a fan of Catwoman either, but that was because she'd interfered when he had been about to kill Robin once and for all. That was when the two caped crusaders made a run for it and lead Waylon to the aviary and to Madeline, but he still disliked her.

As they waited for Harley and possibly Catwoman in tow, Riddler did some harmless tests on Madeline to check her vitals and stuff like that. Waylon was very cautious about it all however, and asked what every instrument did before Riddler used it.

"And what is that?" Waylon asked when Riddler produced two strange looking black paddles.

"Ah, brilliant question." Riddler beamed, actually happy that someone was inquiring about his devices and pretending it wasn't because Waylon was paranoid. "This is my own, personally designed and modified, portable X-Ray. All you do is hold up the paddles on either side of what you want to X-Ray, like so." Riddler demonstrated by holding the paddles either side of Madeline's head. Madeline didn't seem to like having the paddle in front of her face because she started to wriggle and snap again.

"Stop it, you're irritating her!" Waylon growled, sounding a bit like one of those overly cautious parents who were worried that the slightest thing would make their precious kid's head explode.

"She's a woman, she gets irritated by everything. It doesn't do anything to her so stop being so paranoid." Riddler sighed, ignoring Waylon's protests and holding the paddles up again. He clicked a button on the side and there was a flash of white light. The light didn't do Madeline any good either because it seemed to make her even more agitated. She starting roaring as she tried to free herself, yanking on the restraints with all her might. The flash didn't do Waylon any good either, he was blinded for a few seconds, and in those few seconds he felt the urge to just let loose and destroy everything. It was his automatic response when dangerously injured or disabled in anyway.

He managed to restrain himself however, and when his vision returned he fixed his angry gaze on Riddler who was printing out the X-ray picture from one of the paddles.

"Sorry. I should have told you to close your eyes." He said casually, as if he'd merely forgotten to tell Waylon to buy milk at the shops.

"Don't get comfortable Riddler. I could still kill you if I wanted to." Waylon snarled. He wasn't entirely sure how much truth was in that statement since he did consider the annoying little enigma to be a friend, but he had managed to kill the only woman he'd ever loved so what was the murder of a friend in comparison. Riddler froze up a little and looked a bit like someone who had just stubbed their toe, awaiting the pain to reach them. Then he very cautiously continued, but he didn't grumble to himself about Waylon being ungrateful or something of the like.

Waylon looked to Madeline who was still angrily recovering from the flash of the x-ray.

"I'm sorry." He found himself saying to her. It sounded rather pathetic and pleading, but he didn't know what else he could say or do.

"Hmm, that's odd." Riddler mumbled to himself, but it was deliberately loud enough for Waylon to hear.

"What?" He asked, moving over to the table where Riddler had the x-ray's laid out on the white background to illuminate them.

"There." Riddler said, pointing to a strange little square shape in Madeline's neck.

"What is that?" Waylon asked, peering at the shape but he couldn't make out what it was. Riddler squinted at the strange shape, narrowing his eyes into mere slits as his brilliant brain tried to figure out exactly _what_ this thing was.

"It looks like... a microchip?" He suggested, not sounding convinced by his own conclusion.

"Is it to track her?" Waylon suggested, becoming irritated as he imagined these people, whoever they were, putting a microchip in Madeline as if she were a common dog. He was also irritated that if it was indeed a microchip then _those_ people would be showing up soon to claim their property.

Riddler darted over to his equipment table quickly and picked up yet another device. Waylon rushed to stop him as the over eager genius went over to use it on Madeline.

"It's not going to blind her again is it?" Waylon worried, stepping between Riddler and Madeline.

"Relax, it's just a scanner I devised. It scans and identifies the purposes of most items of technology. It doesn't flash or do anything to blind her. It just beeps once or twice." Riddler explained with an exasperated sigh. "I hope _beeping_ is okay?" Waylon eyed the device with suspicion but allowed Riddler to proceed. Sure enough, the device did only beep, and while that beep did irritated Madeline a little as it was beeping near her ear, she didn't flip out nearly as much as she did with the x-ray flash.

The device didn't tell them what it was straight away, it had to be uploaded into the computer before a program could run diagnostics. Once the computer had done its thing a list of technical terms popped up on the screen. Riddler read them quietly to himself as he went down the list. Waylon tried to read them as well but gave up after the first one. It didn't even seem like English the words were so technical.

"Well, it's not a tracking device." Riddler said after a short while, but he certainly didn't seem happy about that fact.

"Then what is it?" Waylon asked cautiously, suspecting that the truth might be worse. Riddler sighed and bit his lip, looking reluctant to answer.

"Well?" Waylon snarled, growing impatient. "What is it?"

"It's a bomb." Catwoman said as she and Harley sauntered into the room out of nowhere. Both Waylon and Riddler were startled by their sudden arrival.

"How long have you been there?" Riddler snapped, uncomfortable to see Catwoman again. "And how did you get in. I locked the door." Waylon glared at the woman glad in black leather, the one who had interfered with his fight with Nightwing and Robin and cost him a victory.

"Long enough, your little assistant let us in." Catwoman beamed with a cheeky grin. "And I picked the lock on the basement door since you cruelly locked the poor boy out." Catwoman gave Jack, who appeared beside her now that the basement door was open, a warm hug. The kid certainly looked happy to have Catwoman's breast so close to his face and didn't rush to see the sister he had been trying to get in to see. Typical.

"How is it a bomb?" Waylon growled with suspicion. He didn't understand how a microchip could be a bomb. He looked to Riddler for the answer but all Riddler could do was acknowledge that Catwoman was indeed correct.

"Batman showed me the technology some time ago." Catwoman explained, releasing Jack from her embrace much to the kid's dismay. "It was from some government facility that had plans to create a task force of dangerous people. The project was shut down of course but it's not surprising that the technology got out to _other_ secret facilities."

"I heard about it too once or twice when I worked at Arkham." Harley added. "They were thinkin' about getting it to make the patients comply. Nothin' makes people do what ya want better than a bomb in their neck." She giggled when she spoke about the prospect, but Waylon was feeling anything but amusement. Madeline had a bomb in her neck. A fucking bomb. When was it going to go off? How big was the explosion going to be? If it did go off could they save her or would it obliterate her? Was there any way to save her?

"Relax big guy." Harley said, noticing Waylon's anxiousness. "I'm sure Eddie can disable it or somethin'. Right Eddie?" Riddler was silent and thought for a moment, staring intently at the scan of the bomb. As he thought it over, Harley went over to Madeline. Waylon watched her cautiously, he didn't want someone as annoying as Harley to irritated Madeline any more than she already was.

"What did they do to you girl?" Harley asked, not hesitating to get up close to Madeline. Oddly enough Madeline didn't try to bite Harley's head off. Perhaps it was because Harley had a way with animals, she did own two hyenas after all.

"That's your girlfriend?" Catwoman sneered to Waylon, looking at Madeline with disgust. " _Can't_ say you're punching out of your league." Waylon took her tone very personally and growled at her, baring his teeth so she got the message. Madeline was and always would be _way_ out of his league, reptilian form or not, and anyone who insinuated that she was anything but stunning deserved a quick but painful death.

"Celina don't be so mean. Maddy's still sexy looking, in a kind of, scaly fetish sort of way." Harley called before Waylon could snap Catwoman's head off. "Plus when we make her human again, you'll see that she's super hot."

"We're focusing on bringing her _humanity_ back at this point. Returning her to a human form comes after." Riddler corrected, still trying to figure out how to defuse the bomb. He'd scribbled a few things down on a notepad. It looked to be scientific gibberish but Waylon was sure it meant _something_ to _someone_ with more than one brain cell.

"Oh. Well. I guess that's why you called me huh?" Harley giggled, deliberately acting blonde. Waylon didn't understand why she still chose to act like a blonde bimbo when Joker was long dead. Why couldn't she just act like the intelligent woman she was.

Harley did a short examination of Madeline. Testing her responses to sound, certain images and phrases. She'd even shoved Jack within striking distance of Madeline but that had almost ended in the poor kid getting his head bitten off. At the end of her examination Harley looked doubtful that she could do anything, but she wasn't completely out of ideas.

"I think there is only one course of treatment I, as a professional psychiatrist, recommend." She announced, being a little over dramatic with her _acting_. It kind of irritated Waylon a bit, he wasn't in the mood for playing silly games. He wanted Madeline's humanity returned. He didn't want to waste time on theatrics for comedic value.

"And that is..?" Catwoman coaxed, also getting irritated with the overdramatic acting. Although, she was probably more concerned with being surrounded by people she had fought with on numerous occasions, and done so alongside Batman to say the least.

"Electroshock therapy." Harley announced proudly, as if it was anything _but_ the worst thing in the world Waylon could imagine.

"NO!" Waylon snapped with a more vicious and threatening growl than he had intended, not that it didn't summarise he hatred of the electroshock practice.

"Yes!" Riddler gasped with sudden realisation at the same time as Waylon's protest. "Of course, a controlled electric current should short circuit the explosive device. With minimal risk of detonation or leakage of acidic fluids."

"Kills two birds with one stone." Catwoman added with a smug grin.

"No, absolutely not!" Waylon growled, stepping in front of Madeline as if to protect her from their intentions. "No one is electrocuting Madeline!"

"They want to electrocute her?" Jack gasped, only just now catching on. He sounded shocked and outraged as well. At least Waylon wasn't alone on this.

"We're not going to electrocute her." Riddler sighed, sounding irritated with the level of stupidity in the room. "It's electroshock therapy, it's a controlled electrical current targeted to specific parts of the brain. It's been tested and modified over the years to provide maximum benefit with minimal damage."

"They do it more often than you think." Harley added, trying to be sympathetic to Jack's worries and totally ignoring Waylon's gripe with the treatment method. "They mainly use it to treat severe depression and other stuff. But if we do it right it should bring your sister's sanity back, provided that she still has some left."

"I do have some equipment I can modify to control the current, and I can hack into the Gotham power grid for the electricity we need." Riddler added, scribbling some more plans down on another piece of paper.

"Have you all gone mad?" Waylon interrupted as they began their plan to zap Madeline with electrify until her brain was fried beyond repair. He was genuinely concerned everyone in the room except for him had literally gone completely and utterly insane.

"It's the only way..." Riddler began, but Waylon cut him off.

"Have you all forgotten about Arkham?" Waylon asked with disbelieve, it certainly seemed that way. "About the countless times they'd strap you down to a table and zap your brain until you couldn't move! Because I certainly remember getting my brain scrambled on a daily basis, not being able to control my body for hours, sometimes days afterwards!"

"Waylon..."

"The only part I _don't_ remember are the times in-between the electroshock therapy because all the zapping erased parts of my memory. They _erased_ whole parts of my life, and for what? Research? Scientific advancement? Some twisted notion that it was _helping_ me?"

"In all honesty, they did abuse the electroshock with you a little more than they should have..." Harley explained, trying to reason with Waylon, but he was having none of it.

"NO! You are _NOT_ going to fry Madeline's brain! You are _NOT_ going to erase her memories! You are _NOT_ going to hurt her like they hurt me, and if you try I _will_ tear you apart!"

Waylon turned his back to them and looked at Madeline, resting his hands on the sides of the chair _he_ had been strapped down to countless times for endless sessions of getting his head violated by electric currents, the same chair that now held Madeline and threatened _her_ with the same fate. Madeline growled low at him but it wasn't aggressive or threatening. He wanted her back so badly, but he didn't want her to go through what he had gone through. It was traumatic to say the least and what kind of a man would he be if he allowed the woman he loved to suffer such a fate. Then again, what kind of a man would he be if he left the woman he loved in _this_ state. Not that it mattered either way, he wasn't a man, he was a monster.

"Look, Eddie. Me and Cat have to get going. We've got a flight to Hawaii booked." Harley said on the side to Riddler in a soft but slightly irritable voice. "Do you know how to do the ECT by yourself?"

"I believe I can yes, but I don't think it'll be happening any time soon." Riddler replied, and Waylon could hear a slight hint of despair in Riddler's voice. Even if it was the only way to bring Madeline back, Waylon just couldn't subject her to such torment.

"Okay. Come on Celina, let's go." Harley said, but Catwoman didn't budge. She glared at Waylon, or at least Waylon could feel her eyes piercing through the back of his head with disgust and distain.

"You're a coward." She said plainly, and Waylon spun around at the insult. How dare she.

"Oh I'm sorry." He snarled sarcastically. "I just assumed _everyone_ here had experienced a little shock treatment. I forgot that your trips to Arkham were rather short. Guess it helps that all you had to do to get out was suck Batman off..." His insult was short lived as Catwoman's whip snapped around his neck. Waylon didn't try to fight it, for once he didn't feel like fighting, and just stood there holding his breath as the whip tightened around his neck. Catwoman's face was not one of offence however, or at least not completely, but more a bitter resentment brought about through betrayal or loss. She and Batman had been close, everyone knew that, and some did speculate that Catwoman loved Batman more than he loved her. His death would have been hard on her, but the expression on her face was one belonging to a woman who experienced rejection from the one person she loved. Waylon could sympathise with that. If Madeline suddenly turned around and rejected him, he would feel the same way.

"Easy there Celina. Don't piss off the big crocodile with all the sharp teeth, okay?" Harley tried to coax, but Catwoman was having none of it and tightened the whip. Waylon didn't budge. He could hold his breath for a very long time.

"You're being a coward." Catwoman snapped again. "You're too afraid to try and save her." Now Waylon's ears picked up and the blood started to rush a little faster and a little hotter in his veins. What did she mean by that?

" _You_ are afraid of electroshock. _You_. And with good reason. They _did_ abuse their positions at Arkham and fry you a little more for sadistic entertainment purposes than research or therapy." Catwoman theorized, but she was still more hostile than sympathetic. "But that was you. And _years_ of that torture have rendered you afraid and weak, and _selfish_." Even Riddler was starting to back away a little, taking Jack with him alongside Harley. They were all wary of what would happen if Catwoman pushed Waylon too far, but as irritating and aggravating as her words were, Waylon was more curious as to her logic behind these accusations. He wouldn't kill her just yet.

"Look at her. Look at Madeline." Catwoman ordered, but Waylon didn't obey. "She's been turned into a beast, an animal that can do nothing more than roar and snap and hiss at everything. She can't even recognise her own brother. Now imagine that she is still inside there somewhere, what if she is trapped just beneath the surface watching herself act like a monster, desperate to escape and you won't try to set her free because you're afraid. And in refusing to put aside _your_ fear for the woman you love you are being selfish beyond all reason." Waylon turned and glanced at Madeline, staring at her emerald green eyes. What if Catwoman was right and Madeline really was just behind those eyes. Desperate to escape and watching him turn down what could be her only way out. She'd hate him for denying her freedom. He owed it to her to help her in any way he could, heck, he was obligated to help her in any way he could. It was his fault she'd ended up like this.

Catwoman loosened the whip all of a sudden and before Waylon had chance to realise what had happened Catwoman was already walking out of the door. She'd made her point. No need for her to stay. But before she left she did stop in the doorway to the basement.

"If you love her you should do anything and everything to help her." She said plainly, and then disappeared up the steps with Harley in toe.

Waylon stood in silence for a short while, Riddler and Jack on the other side of the room still cautious about his temperament. Waylon gritted his teeth and looked at Madeline, staring intently to see if there was any sign of her behind those eyes. She had to be in there, and if she was then she'd want out, even if it meant enduring a bit of pain. Still, the electroshock could fuck her up like it had done to Waylon. It could even negatively affect her current condition and make her even more like Waylon, slowly devolving her into nothing more than an animal. He didn't want that to happen to her. She deserved to be happy.

"Edward." Waylon said calmly, so calmly in fact that it made Riddler jump.

"Yes?" Riddler replied cautiously, fearing an attack.

"Can you do the therapy?" He asked casually, as if he were merely asking a friend for a favour.

"Yes I believe I should be able to... No, I _will_ be able to do it provided I get the equipment modified.

"Then let's do it." Waylon responded before Riddler had even finished speaking. "But Edward..."

"Y-Yes?"

"If you fail. I _will_ kill you."

 **I know I know I know, I should have updated sooner I'm sorry. Updates will become more frequent as of the 27th of Feb when I am back at uni and away from Fallout 4.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

It was horrific to see Madeline strapped to the chair with a home-made ECT headset strapped onto her skull, her hands bounds and her eyes filled with fear as she desperately tried to struggle free. The worst part had been holding her down and holding her head still so Riddler could tighten the clamps on the headset. He had had to tighten it just an uncomfortable level of tightness so it didn't come off as Madeline threw her head from side to side to shake the strange device off. Waylon didn't want to see this. Ever instinct in his body told him he had to break her free and get her away from Gotham. But he couldn't do that. It was like Catwoman had said. Madeline was trapped and this was the only way to save her sanity.

"All the systems are set up, we're ready to go." Riddler announced, but it was more like a question. He was seeking Waylon's permission to go ahead with the ECT.

"Come on. Let's do it already and get my sister back to normal." Jack insisted, sounding quite ignorant to the gravity of the situation. _He_ hadn't experienced electroshock therapy before, so he had no idea how messed up and barbaric it was. Still, like Harley had said, the doctors at Arkham _had_ abused their ECT with Waylon for one sadistic reason or another.

"You need to leave." Waylon growled calmly to Jack without turning his sight away from Madeline.

"What? No! You can't kick me out again. I want to be here for my sister." Jack protested, but his argument was lost on deaf ears, Waylon didn't _want_ him in the room. It wasn't because he didn't want Jack to see his sister convulsing as electricity was shot through every nerve in her body, although that would be traumatic for someone to watch. It was because he didn't know how _he_ would react to seeing Madeline like that. For all he knew he could lose control the minute the ECT began and destroy everything and everyone in sight. Heck, how would he react if it didn't work at all?

"Look kid, we'll call you in when we're done. But its best for everyone if you wait outside again." Riddler said, trying to be reassuring as he ushered Jack out of the basement once more. His tone of voice however, betrayed his earlier confidence in his ability to pull this off, and he sounded as if he was also concerned with how Waylon would react if things didn't go as planned.

"I'm not a kid, I can take it." Jack protested once more in a final bid to be permitted to stay. Riddler shook his head.

"It's not the ECT that you can't handle." He said flatly, and then shut the door.

"Are you ready?" Riddler asked as he returned to the controls. He had Madeline hooked up to a vitals machine so he could monitor her heart rate and BP in case things went pear shaped. Waylon waited a moment before responding, his voice unwilling to obey him as his answer would condemn Madeline to the horrors _he_ had tried to desperately to avoid.  
"Waylon." Riddler said, catching Waylon a little off guard before he had had a chance to answer the first question. "You need to promise me something."

"What?" Waylon asked, confused as to what on Earth _he_ had to promise.

"Once I begin you have to let me do this without interruption." Riddler warned, vaguely sounding patronising in his tone but it was borne out of caution.

"I wouldn't know how to _interrupt_ it if I tried." Waylon replied with confusion.

"No I mean, once I start you have to trust that I know what I'm doing. You can't yell at me to stop or lower the voltage, or try to free Madeline or destroy the machine... It could have serious consequences." Riddler explained, his face wrapped with worry and concern that Waylon wouldn't be able to stop himself. He was probably right on that account.

"I won't." Waylon said meekly, unsure of how true those words were.

"I mean it. The wrong voltage could be ineffective and submit her to pain for no good reason. If you try to pull her out and interrupt the flow _you_ could get zapped as well and we both know how you'll behave after that."

"I get it. I won't interrupt." Waylon grumbled, a little irritated with how patronising Riddler was getting. No, he wasn't being patronising, he was just covering all the bases. It was perfectly understandable for him to be _this_ cautious, but it wasn't half annoying.

"I'm serious Waylon. If you tried to do something like smash the machine it could short-circuit deliver and uncontrolled shock that could cause dire consequences. It could damage her brain beyond repair, or worse, render her brain dead..."

"I got it! Let's just... Let's just get this over with." Waylon sighed, he didn't want to hear any more horror stories about what _could_ happen if it all went wrong.

"Okay." Riddler replied quietly. He didn't sound convinced. "Starting up now."

The generator Riddler had modified to conduct the electric current needed started up and the pylons began to pulse with electric light. The light but irritating buzzing sound could be heard and pierced through Waylon's ears, igniting old but certainly not forgotten memories of what seemed like days strapped to a chair and subject to the torture Madeline was about to experience. The buzzing must have irritated Madeline as well because she began to thrash with panic and pull on her restrains.

"Administering first shock now." Riddler said, more a warning for Waylon to prepare himself than a formal process. The shock came a little faster than Waylon's ability to prepare for it and he felt his heart skip into overdrive as the electricity hit Madeline like a speeding bullet. Every nerve in her body tensed up and went rigid, her torso rising up and her arms and legs pushing against the restraints. Her eyes were wide, either out of shock or involuntary control and her jaw clamped down shut, an expression of agonising pain on her face. She let out a growling scream, or at least tried to, it was warbled by the electricity shooting through her.

Waylon bit his bottom lip, hard, so hard that blood began to seep out and reach the corners of his mouth. Riddler had been right about Waylon needing to control himself and resist the urge to put an end to the ECT. It took all of his willpower to hold himself in place and not smash the machine or tear Madeline from the chair. It was even harder to stop himself from turning away like the coward Catwoman had called him. He couldn't look away. He had to watch, he had to do it. For Madeline. After what felt like an hour but had only been a few seconds, the electroshock ceased and Madeline gasped for air, still snarling and growling like an animal.

"Why didn't it work!" Waylon snapped, feeling his blood boil and his vision go red in an instant.

"It takes more than one shock." Riddler reassured, quickly changing some controls and adjusting the voltage. "Administering a higher voltage."

"Higher?" Waylon protested, ready to go over and intimidate Riddler into stopping this.

"Waylon. Remember what I said." Riddler snapped, administering the shock as he stared Waylon down. Waylon locked his body in place and did all he could to resist destroying everything in a blind rage.

Madeline convulsed once more, this time even more horrifically than the first. Her body seemed to twitch as it tensed, and light foam began to froth at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were not longer fixed with terror but rolling into the back of her head, the electroshock convulsion becoming a seizure or something. Now this one was lasting much longer than a few seconds, and Waylon glanced over at Riddler again and again to see if he was ever going to stop it. But he had an expression of determination on his face, combined with something else. Was it eagerness? No. It was enjoyment. He was fucking loving this. Waylon couldn't control his body anymore and stalked over to the controls.

"Shut it off NOW!" He roared, but he didn't touch any of the controls for fear of messing it all up. But Riddler didn't stop either.

"Did you hear what I said? Turn it off!" Waylon demanded, every fibre of his body telling him to smash the controls.

"Just a little more..." Riddler insisted, fiddling with the controls some more. Was he upping the voltage or something? Madeline was still convulsing and looked more like a reanimated corpse, her body limp but convulsing and her face contorted beyond recognition. It was horrible. Waylon couldn't stand this any longer.

"Almost." Riddler said, watching the vitals monitor very carefully. The heart rate was skyrocketing, the BP crazy high, and all other things on the monitor flipping out.

"Edward!" Waylon snarled, he was seriously going to snap. He could feel Killer Croc clawing to get out and destroy everything. His claws wanted to tear and slash, his teeth wanted to gnash and crush.

"Just a few more seconds..." Riddler said, his hand hovering over the power down switch.

He yanked it down and the generator shut off, the convulsing stopped and Madeline fell limp in the chair. Waylon rushed over to her and tore the restraints from the chair and yanked off the headset. He scooped Madeline up into his arms and carried her away from the chair, as if it could hurt her without the power, and crouched with her in his arms. She was limp and clammy, her limbs heavy and her head lolling to the side like a corpse.

"No, no no no." Waylon whispered in horror as he held Madeline's head up and looked for any sign of life from her.

"Come on Madeline, wake up. Please. I need you. I can't lose you again." He cried, moving the strands of feathery hair from Madeline's face so he could look for any sign of life. Anything, anything at all would do. A flutter of the eyelids, a twitch in the corner of her mouth? But nothing happened, she stayed still and cold, growing paler by the second.

"No." He whispered, his chest tightening and his breath trembling. He felt the blood in his veins simmer and boil, ready to overflow and seep into every nerve and fibre of his being. Was he truly doomed to be alone forever? Was he destined to always come close to being with the one person he loved but always fall short and back into a pit of despair. If only he had devolved completely sooner, then he wouldn't have attempted this fruitless endeavour. Madeline would still be alive if he had just let himself die. Heck, everything would have been better if the doctors had let him die the day he was born and saved his mother's life instead. Everything would have been better if Waylon Jones had never existed.

Madeline gasped for air, her throat so dry it hurt to breath. Her whole body felt like an old book covered in dust that had just been washed clean with a breath of fresh air, life and warmth returning to her unusually cold limbs. They felt rigid and alien to her, but as she commanded them to move they slowly obeyed her. All her senses felt numb and her brain didn't want to follow any logic train of thought, everything muddled together. Her commands to move an arm became the twitching of her feet, and the commanded to open her eyes became the clenching of her fist. Where was she? What was going on? Was she back in the secret facility? Was she back in her cell with Jason in the cell next to her, Lonnie across from them curled up in a corner. Or was she strapped down to a table again with doctors and that horrible woman in the hazmat suit standing over her? Of all her senses, smell was the first to return. She could smell dust, a lot of dust, but also the cold metallic scent of some large metal appliance. There was also the scent of sweat and a familiar but not entirely pleasant, faint scent of moisture, like grass clippings left to swelter in the heat.

Following her sense of smell came the sense of taste. She could taste blood in her mouth instantly, her own of course as she found a small nick on the inside of her cheek. Had she bitten herself by accident? She found herself subconsciously lapping up the blood to moisturise her dry mouth. As she did so, she found her eyes forcing themselves open. The light was blinding, even though the room was dark. She felt like she had never been able to see before, and this was the first time the world was visible to her. Everything was clear, the darkness so much brighter, and every detail so much more noticeable than she was used to. She could see the tiny cracks and scuffs on the concrete floor, the scratches of the single light bulb, even as it shone brightly, and every individual scale on Waylon's back.

Waylon? Wait. Madeline shook her head and opened her eyes fully, taking in everything about the space around her. She was in some sort of basement, not a government facility one either. There was a big metal chair in the middle of the room with leather straps on the arms and legs. It looked like some old-fashioned electric chair. There was a computer terminal not too far away from it with what Madeline assumed were the controls for the chair but she couldn't be sure since they looked so technologically different. Across the room in the very corner Madeline could see the back of a very large reptilian creature. Waylon. He had cornered a very skinny looking person with messy brown hair wearing a dirty shirt and jeans. She was unsure but it kind of looked like an older and less well kept Riddler. He looked to be in panic, the lines on his face dark as he seemed to be talking very fast and very stutteringly. Madeline couldn't hear anything. No, she could hear a single, long and irritating beep sound, the kind you had when your ears were ringing from forgetting that you had the volume maxed out on your laptop when you plug your headphones back in.

Madeline tried to sit up but failed the first time. She glanced over at Riddler and tried to process what was going on. He was cornered and looked scared. Waylon had be losing it or something and about to kill him. Madeline didn't really know what was going on but she knew she had stop Waylon from doing something he'd regret. She heaved herself up and opened her mouth to speak but could only croak, or at least she thought it would sound like a croak. She still couldn't hear anything. She shook her head, trying to shake the ringing out of her head. Oddly enough, it worked, and the sounds of the world slowly faded back as if someone was slowly turning up the volume from mute.

"...remember that? And that time with Grundy. You wouldn't have made it out if it weren't for me." Riddler pleaded, Madeline's ears only hearing the end parts of his desperate plea for life. Waylon didn't respond to that with words, only an angry growl. Madeline had heard him growl lots of times and to most people those growls were just the same growl but like dating someone with a thick accent, Madeline had grown to understand the subtle differences in those growls. This growl was an unbelievable angry and vengeful growl, but not one from Waylon. This was an angry Killer Croc growl, and that was one growl no one wanted to have directed at them. Madeline opened to her mouth to call out again but failed. She stared over at them, staring at Riddler in the hope that he'd feel eyes looking at him and instinctively search for the source, but there was no such luck.

"W... Way...lon." Madeline called, finally able to use her voice but it was so quiet and horse it was barely even a voice at all. She felt like she had been screaming for hours and that her vocal cords were shot. Desperate, she tried again.

"W-Waylon." She stuttered, still quiet but at least she almost had the word. She was running out of time. Riddler had sunk to the floor with his hands over his head as Waylon towered over him, ready to kill. He raised a claw, about to slash it down and kill what Madeline understood to be one of his only friends.

"Waylon!" Madeline croaked. It was loud but not really legible. She only hoped it would be enough to distract Killer Croc long enough for Riddler to make a run for it. It didn't distract Killer Croc, in fact, it instantly shocked his control over Waylon, receding into the back of Waylon's mind once more where it belonged. Waylon spun around and gasped a quivering gasp when he saw Madeline sitting before him. He instantly forgot about the cowering Riddler and ran over to Madeline, his eyes lit up with hope and relief in a way Madeline had never really seen before.

"Oh my God Madeline is that you?" He cried, dropping to his knees and cupping Madeline's face in his hands. He stared at her eyes, her face and her body with disbelief, looking her up and down as if it were unbelievable for her to be there. Madeline still didn't understand what was going on but she knew something big had to have happened to make Waylon so upset. But she hadn't seen him in so long either, and she felt her own heart beat faster, her body overflow with relief and everything just felt _right_.

"It's me?" She croaked, still a little hoarse but getting better. Now her voice had to deal with the lump forming in her throat. She couldn't believe it. After all this time he was here, she was back with him. She hadn't thought she'd see him ever again.

She reached out and cupped the side of Waylon's face. She had to touch him to believe he was real. He looked so different to how he did when she last saw him. He was bigger, and his face looked more reptilian. His nose was starting to disappear and form into more of a snout, and the ridges on his head and back seemed to be bigger and sharper. But he still had the same eyes. Tortured yellow eyes that looked at her with love and desperation. Those eyes betrayed his exterior and made him look so vulnerable, so insecure and in need of protection. Madeline lightly stroked the side of his face to sooth him, her hand running from his cheekbone to his jaw...

Madeline looked at her hand. It was _not_ her hand. It was covered in greenish turquoise scales with clawed black nails, and it was bigger than _her_ hand in comparison to Waylon's face. Waylon must have noticed the panic on her face because he quickly turned her head so she could do nothing but look at him.

"Don't panic, it's all going to be okay." He said quickly, but he sounded panicky and that made Madeline feel panicky. She pulled herself from his hold which was surprisingly easy to do. Was she stronger now? She looked down at her body and felt her gut wretch with disgust and confusion. What the hell was going on?

She was not in her body. She was in some reptilian body with scales covering her from head to toe, claws on her feet and a tail lying limp behind her. She put her hands up and felt the side of her face. It didn't feel like her face, in texture or in structure for that matter. She felt like she had a snout instead of a normal face. She couldn't imagine what it looked like, all she could think of was Waylon's face on _her_ body. What was going on? Why was she like this? Was this what those scientists had been turning her into all this time? Had they been turning her into a lizard creature and sending her out to fight Waylon. And for what purpose? To create a super weapon or something?

"Madeline, you need..."

"Get me a mirror!" Madeline demanded, pulling herself up from the ground onto unsteady legs. She wobbled a bit, and she felt disorientated because she was so much taller than before. She was still shorter than Waylon, but not by much. Instead of doing as she asked Waylon stayed to help her stand. Right now that was not what she wanted from him.

"GET ME A MIRROR!" Madeline screamed, and there was a growl in the back of her throat as she did so. She felt startled as she heard and felt it, and clutched at her throat. She even growled like a monster? Why was this happening? What was this happening to her?

"Don't let her look in a mirror." Riddler ordered, now standing behind his computer terminal again. He still looked pale and scared, using the terminal to hold himself up, but he looked more angry than anything else.

"Oh God. Edward, I'm so sorry..." Waylon began, but Riddler silenced him with a harsh shush.

"I'll deal with you later." Riddler warned with a harsh and bitter tone. "Right now, keep all reflective surfaces away from Madeline or the shock might reverse the process."

"Reverse the process?" Madeline questioned, growing more and more confused. "What are you talking about." Waylon took a minute to take a big breath and steady himself for the explanation, as if he were telling Madeline she had an inoperable tumour or something.

"Well?" Madeline asked, very impatient at this point.

"Before, every time we've seen you in _this_ form, you've been savage, acting like an animal or something." Waylon explained, his words even more horrific than Madeline's body. "We had to... electrocute you to bring your humanity back. I thought we'd gone too far and killed you..."

"No, we'd been doing fine." Riddler corrected, spitting his words. "You just pressured me to _stop_ because you couldn't handle it. The one thing I asked you to do was to let me do it uninterrupted and you couldn't even manage that..."

"Not right now Ed!" Waylon snapped. He silenced Riddler, but only seemed to make the Riddle Master more pissed off.

"You electrocuted me?" Madeline asked with disbelief, as if someone had just told her pigs could fly or cows lived on the moon. "You killed me. I got turned into a monster. And then you electrocuted me?" Waylon didn't respond and hung his head low, either out of shame or guilt, maybe both.

"Well?" Madeline snapped, maybe a little more aggressively than she'd have liked.

"Yes." Waylon admitted sheepishly, sounding so despondent. Madeline didn't feel like being sympathetic however, she felt like being a crazy, psycho bitch.

"This is all your fault!" She hissed, the blood boiling in her veins. "You killed me. You snapped your jaws around my torso and bit me in half." Waylon remained silent.

"Then, I died. I died in a sewer. A filthy, stinking sewer and then I presume you left me there in that disgusting sewer filled with shit and rats and god knows what else. Because if you'd taken me out of that sewer then I wouldn't have been found by the secret government, or whatever they are, facility that turned me into a monster, using what I can only assume is your genetics or something to do with you, again!"

Waylon continued to stay silent.

"Then, they set me loose to fight _you_ over and over again. And while I may not remember anything about those fights I certainly remember feeling drained and injured afterwards so I'm guessing you didn't play nice. Oh, but don't worry, because you made up for that by _electrocuting_ me, and what I can only assume is killing me once again, in a bit to restore my humanity so I can see myself and understand that I have been turned into a freak."

Again, Waylon stayed silent.

"If it weren't for you I would be happy. If I had never met you I would have met someone else, someone _normal_ who would have given me everything I'd ever want and not put my life in constant danger. Not almost killed me hundreds of times because he is turning into more of a monster. Not needed me to sing a fucking lullaby to calm him down or he'd end my life sooner."

Still silent.

"Heck, I should have never come back. I should have stayed in Metropolis, had a fantastic career as a model and forgotten about you. Forgotten that I'd ever carried your baby. Forgotten that I love you. Everything. _Everything_ bad that has happened to me is your fault Waylon Jones. It's all your fault."

Waylon stayed silent, and his silence just pissed Madeline off even more.

"Well. Say something! Yell back at me. Roar in my face. Tell me all the good things you've done for me in defence so I can shoot them down as being pathetic. Heck, hit me or something. Do something don't just stand there! Say something to me!"

"I-I..." Waylon stuttered, unable to form words. Did he even have anything to say in defence.

"Well. Go on then!" Madeline hissed, sounding meaner by the second. She was itching for a good fight. Something to make her feel better.

"I've just missed you so much." Waylon confessed, almost smiling at Madeline with absolute joy.

That was not what Madeline had expected from him. The boiling blood grew still and cold, and she felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to say. Riddler was watching for her response too. Madeline glanced over and saw that he was as horrified by what Madeline had said as Madeline felt now that she had finished saying it.

"You're a stupid fucking idiot, you know that?" Madeline accused, pointing at Waylon but she couldn't keep it up. She didn't know what to do with her hands, or how to stand. She retracted them and clenched them, then flexed them, then used one to scratch the back of her neck and the other to run through her strange new lizard hair that felt more like feathers than anything else. Finally, she clutched at it and then let her hands drop to her side.

"I'm a stupid fucking idiot." Madeline growled to herself, and then she grabbed Waylon back his head and pressed her lips against his.

 **I know its been a while but I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm back at university and away from Fallout 4 so I should be updating more frequently again. I have stared an art page on tumblr and continue to update on my deviantart so it might not be as frequent as once a day but more frequently than I have been. Thankyou all for being so patient with me.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter fourteen**

Everyone had come to the conclusion that it was best for Jack if he didn't see Madeline _just_ yet. Madeline was still fairly self conscious about her new body and Waylon didn't want Jack's freak out to consequently freak Madeline out. While most of Pinckney Orphanage was dilapidated there were a few rooms upstairs that remained intact and didn't have crumbling floors. One of the rooms, what had been the old bedroom of whoever ran the orphanage, a nun perhaps or some other matron, had a large balcony that was still in stable condition attached to it. Madeline sat on the balcony's stone railing, since it was too low for her to lean on, with her legs hanging over the edge. It was night and the moon was particularly bright and full that evening. Not as bright as the city lights of course that covered up all the stars with a toxic polluted glow.

It had been about an hour since Madeline had woken up, an hour since she'd screamed at Waylon for ruining her life, kissed him, and then disappeared to be alone. As much as Waylon had wanted to go after her, Riddler had convinced him to leave Madeline alone for a short while so she could cool down. Waylon wasn't a patient man but he had managed a good fifty nine minutes of waiting and was determined to not wait any more. He had been without Madeline for so long the last thing he wanted was for her to ignore him or actively avoid him, especially after what had transpired. Despite what Madeline had said to him, he didn't harbour any resentment towards her for it. He understood and accepted that everything she had accused him of was true. He'd thought those things himself mere moments before Madeline had woken up. The logical thing to do would be to let Madeline go for good, and to actually let her leave him without trying to find her again some years later. But now that she had been turned into a reptilian creature like him, there was a very limit number of places she could go and even fewer people she could be around. Even if she didn't really want him around she needed him. Though, the reptilian form was only temporary of course, and once Madeline was returned to human form she could do whatever she wanted, including leave Waylon for good.

"I know you're standing over there." Madeline sighed apathetically. She didn't turn around to look at Waylon and continued to stare out across the Gotham River. Waylon scratched the back of his neck and was hesitant to move forward. What did he say? What did he do? Did Madeline even want him anywhere near her. Sure she'd kissed him after all the accusations but what did that even mean?

"So how've you been?" Madeline asked casually, as if it were mere small talk between exes who broke up on bad terms and ran into each other at a coffee shop five years later. Neither one of them over the other. In a way, it kind of was like that, only four years and in an abandoned orphanage instead of a coffee shop.

"Okay." Waylon lied. He didn't really know how he explained the way he'd been feeling for the past four years. Miserable and depressed didn't quite do it justice.

"I'm surprised you've not devolved yet?" Madeline stated flatly, and her words stung just a little bit to hear. She almost sounded disappointed. No, not disappointed. Irritated.

"Yeah. Turns out giving in to my monstrous side actually makes it happy and keeps it sedated." Waylon confessed, moving forward a little. He wanted to go and stand next to Madeline on the balcony but was hesitant to do so. Instead he leant against the doorframe of the open balcony doors.

"So you've been Killer Croc for the past... _four_ years?" Madeline said, sounding resentful and bitter.

"On and off." Waylon answered quickly. He was more interested in why Madeline was bitter about the four years part. Had she not known how long it had been? In the secret facility or wherever they'd been keeping her.

"Madeline... I... I'm sorry."

Madeline laughed a short and cruel laugh.

"Don't tell me you're sorry. Not again." Madeline snapped, alarmingly angrily in fact. "Say a word too many times and it loses all meaning. You have to _show_ you're sorry."

"But I _am_ sorry. Mainly sorry for existing and being a part of your life." Waylon confessed with indifference, shrugging his shoulders and casting his eyes down at the ground. It was on odd thing to be apologising to your existence, even if he had wished his own demise so many times before.

"Don't do that. Don't apologise for existing. Self deprecation is just a way to make people feel sorry for _you_ and right now I don't want to feel sorry for you. Right now I want to be pissed off at you." Madeline hissed, turning around and looking at Waylon as she did so. The moonlight reflected of her eyes and made them shine in the dark. Even though she wanted to be pissed off at him, Waylon couldn't be pissed off at someone who looked so beautiful and enchanting. Even if she was being kind of mean to him. Madeline sighed heavily.

"You killed me." She muttered, turning back around to look out over the river. "You killed me because we'd just found out that you had less than a year of humanity left in you. Less than a year before you devolved into a complete monster. That realisation freaked you out, and it freaked me out too. But the thing that pisses me off the most is that you freaked out, lost control and killed me."

"Yes, I am well aware of that abhorrible thing I did. You don't need to remind me." Waylon growled, starting to run thin on patience with Madeline's irritation. Even if it was all his fault that didn't mean he had to bend over and just take it.

"No! You don't get it!" Madeline snapped, sounding more upset than angry now. She swung her legs back around over the railing and stood on the balcony.

"You freaked out because you found out that in less than a year Waylon Jones the person would be dead. That is perfectly fine. It is perfectly justifiable in some weird fucked up way that your natural response to such ground shaking news would be to snap and kill me by accident."

"Again. Stop reminding me."

"I don't care that you killed me!" Madeline yelled, throwing her arms up in disbelief. It was weird to hear her say that, and it only made Waylon feel more confused. Was it obvious, was he just too dumb to understand, or was this actually complicated?

"I don't care that you killed me. I wouldn't even care about losing four years of my life, the torture at that facility and being turning into _this_ , _if_ I came back to Gotham and you were locked up somewhere as a savage beast incapable of self awareness. I wouldn't give a flying fuck about what happened to me because that would be minor in comparison to losing your own humanity."

Madeline bit her lip and looked away. She looked like she was going to cry but her anger was winning the emotion fight and kept the tears at bay.

"But four years later and you are still you. You still have your humanity and I died and got turned into a monster for no reason. If you hadn't lost it, if you'd just killed Cash and the other officers and we'd made it out of Gotham we could have lived together and been happy for four years, maybe more. I'm angry, Waylon, because you killed a _future_ we could have had."

Now Waylon understood Madeline's anger. She wasn't mad at him for killing her, heck, as she'd died she'd told him she didn't blame him. She was mad because it was unjustified. She'd died for no good reason. But how could they have known Waylon would last another four years, maybe longer, without losing it completely. For all he knew he could have lost it within that year and killed her way out in the middle of nowhere. He'd managed to last for four years but how much of that was due to Madeline _not_ being around. She was like a drug to him that made him feel more human but simultaneously made his monstrous side more potent. Perhaps his longevity was due to Madeline _not_ being around. Then again, as she stood with him now she didn't seem to have the same effect. Maybe it was because she was mad at him? Or maybe it was because her reptilian form _didn't_ make him feel more human.

"Madeline." Waylon said, sternly but calmly.

"What?' Madeline replied meekly, not even looking at him.

"Come here."

"Why?"

"Just come here." Waylon grumbled, getting irritated with how resistant Madeline was being. It took a second and Madeline was more reluctant than anything else but she did move forward to stand in front of him. She still wasn't looking at him though. Waylon tilted Madeline's head up and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said. "And I know that I say that a lot and words do loose meaning the more you say them. But..." Madeline stopped resisting his gaze and looked in his eyes of her own accord. He gazed back at hers. Even in this new body her emerald green eyes were still as fiery and passionate as before. Wild eyes. The eyes he loved.

"But I rescued you from the people that turned you into _this_. And I did everything I could to bring you back, to restore your humanity. Even if it meant submitting you to electroshock therapy which you know I freak out about. And I didn't freak out when Riddler was doing it, not too much at least, because I wanted to save you. If _that_ isn't showing you that I'm sorry I don't know what else I can do. Tell me?" Waylon pleaded. "What else can I do to prove to you that I'm sorry?"

Madeline looked back at him in dumbfounded silence, her brow furrowed with confliction. Then, her breathing became a little more shaky and sniffles could be faintly heard. Her beautiful eyes began to glaze over a little and a tear or two, or three, or perhaps ten escaped from the corners of her eyes.

"Madeline don't..." Waylon tried to say, but once the first tear had made it down her cheek Madeline took a big breath inwards and burst into loud sobbing. "...cry" Madeline buried her face in Waylon's chest and he held her close. It did feel weird to hold her like this, partly because it had been so long but also because she was closer to his height and the embrace was closer in feeling to how it would feel if they were both normal. It felt better though, a lot nicer to hold her like this. He wouldn't say that of course. Now was not the time to broach the subject of him finding her new body better than her old body. That would have to be saved for another time.

"You can't just cry to get out of answering the question." Waylon laughed, trying to pry Madeline from his chest but she was determined to keep her head buried. She sniffled some more and rubbed her nose from side to side.

"Don't wipe your snot on me." Waylon complained, but he was smiling.

"Can I have a mirror?" Madeline asked meekly, her voice muffled but Waylon heard her.

"You sure?" He asked, cautious of how emotionally temperamental she was. "I mean you look fine to me but I don't know if you..."

"I just want to know. I have this horrible image in my head and I want to see that I don't look like some swamp creature from an old B movie horror film." Madeline explained, finally giving herself a bit of oxygen as she retracted a little from Waylon. She rubbed her nose with her arm and sniffled a last sniff.

"Don't tell me _I_ look like a monster from a B movie horror film?" Waylon pouted, lowering his hands to Madeline's waist. He really wanted to be more adventurous with his hands but again, now was not the time.

"No." Madeline giggled, tracing her finger in shapes and circles on Waylon's chest. "You look more like a comic book villain."

"Ooh, sounds exciting." Waylon encouraged. This was good. She was cheering up. It was best that she was happy when she finally saw her reflection again, that way she was less likely to get angry at him again.

"And then who would you be? The hero with the forbidden love for her arch nemesis?" Waylon suggested, leaning in and kissing Madeline's neck. It made Madeline giggle and squirm a little in a delightful way.

"You're stalling." Madeline giggled, trying to shrug his kisses off. "Please let me have a mirror?"

"Okay." Waylon sighed, and reached into his pocket. He didn't have a mirror but he did have a phone Riddler had wanted him to hold onto just in case something happened with Madeline such a short time after the ECT. He handed it to her and Madeline opened up the camera option on it. The camera was automatically facing downwards so Madeline had to press the flip button to see what she looked like. She didn't press it however, and hovered her finger over the button, hesitant to reveal the truth now that it was an option.

Waylon went behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder and peering down at the phone that currently showed them Madeline's feet and the floor.

"You okay?" He asked after Madeline continued to hover for well over five minutes.

"Yeah. Just a little scared."

"You have no reason to be scared. You're beautiful, even with scales." Waylon encouraged, kissing Madeline's shoulder. She was more than beautiful but yet again, now was not the time to use all the arousing and somewhat pervy words he had in his head to describe how gorgeous Madeline looked and what he wanted to do to her. Madeline giggled and then took a deep breath. She pressed the button and it took a second for the phone to oblige and flip the camera over to show what was in front of it.

Waylon could feel Madeline's heartbeat speed up when her appearance was shown to her, and he felt some of her muscles tense up. Madeline reached up and touched her face as if she had to see herself touch her own face to believe that it was indeed her face.

"Oh my god." She gasped, not an upset gasp or an angry gasp, not even a terrified gasp, more of an, undecided on the emotion to feel, kind of gasp.

"You okay?" Waylon asked, a little worried at the lack of emotion. This was not what he'd expected from her.

"Yeah, it's just... I don't know how to feel. It doesn't feel like my face." Madeline pondered, sounding like she was mildly amused by her own uncertainty. "It's weird. I mean, I don't look _revolting_ , but I _was_ a model so I certainly don't look..." her voice was starting to sound like there was a slight warble in it, and Waylon wanted to nip any more tears in the bud before they happened. He turned her around and gentle covered the phone with his hand so Madeline couldn't stare at it anymore.

"You..." He began, not entirely sure how he was going to go about this but determined to give it his best shot. "You have the most beautiful scales."

"I have beautiful scales?" Madeline said, raising a brow? The tears were certainly nipped in the bud but now she just liked wary and confused.

"Yes. They are beautiful and exotic." Waylon stuttered, making it up as he went along but he couldn't really hide his laughter at how ridiculous these compliments sounded. "They're like the turquoise oceans of a tropical paradise. And you're nose is like that of a cute little gecko, dainty and cute, and might I add... You still have freckles."

"What?" Madeline gasped, switching the phone on again and bringing it close to stare at the bridge of her nose. There were indeed little slightly darker turquoise splodges over the bridge of her nose that did indeed resemble freckles. Waylon had only just noticed them himself but he was glad he had.

"You're eyes are like gems from a far of land belonging to the crown of a sultan, and still filled with the fiery passion of a phoenix that... Yeah I'm running low on this flowery shit."

"I was going to say. You did well but I don't think overly poetic and cheesy compliments are your thing, or mine for that matter." Madeline giggled, throwing her arms over Waylon's shoulders again with the phone in one hand, moving close. She had a grin on her face.

"Okay then, how about..." Waylon jolted Madeline close by her hips. "...I want to bang you against every piece of furniture in this building."

"That's more like it." Madeline chuckled, and gently pulled Waylon's head closer for a kiss.

Their lips connected and their tongues pressed against each other. Waylon pulled Madeline close so there was no gap in between their bodies, mashed together like two halves of the same whole. He ran his hands down her back and onto her hips, then down some more to lightly squeeze her bottom. It felt good to feel a bottom so big in his hands, not that Madeline had an astronomically big ass or anything, but that it felt the right size to hold and to squeeze now that Madeline was proportionally appropriate considering how massive Waylon was. It was almost like they were normal. No, it was better than that. It was like Madeline was suited perfectly for Waylon, tailor made just for him and nobody else. That was a good thing too. He wouldn't let anyone else have her.

Waylon kissed down Madeline's neck, down her collarbone and over her chest. He gently kissed her succulent breasts and then moved down some more, kissing over her stomach and her naval. She still felt so soft, even with scales. Why didn't he have soft scales? He went down some more and oh so gently flicked his tongue at Madeline's core. Madeline gave a slight gasp of delight and her whole body gave a little twitch as his tongue flicked on and off the sweet spot.

"Oh I forgot you could do that with your tongue." Madeline gasped, her voice all shrill and filled with ecstasy.

"Did you forget I could do this?" Waylon said suggestively, slipping his tongue inside Madeline's core that was so hot it almost burn to do so. Madeline's gasp of delight made it all worth it though. He may have been ugly as all hell and as dumb as an ox, but thank the lord for giving him a long tongue.

Waylon didn't want to leave Madeline void of pleasure for even a moment so he replaced his tongue with his fingers momentarily as he stood up again. Then he replaced his fingers with his own throbbing member as he undid his pants one-handed. Then, he hooked his hands under Madeline's bottom and scoop her up and onto him. He pressed her against the wall, using his body to hold her there as he placed his hands on the wall for a better stance, better _impact_. Madeline clutched onto him tightly, digging her nails... no, her claws, into Waylon's back. It pierced the flesh but it did not hurt nearly as much as it felt good. Waylon had forgotten that Madeline was no longer a dainty little human he needed to restrain himself around. She was like him. Tough. Durable. She could take what he dished out and he had been holding back all this time.

The wall cracked. The wood creaked. The sounds of euphoric gasps and moans filled the air. Grunts and gasps of pain and pleasure as claws slashed and the odd tooth pierced the skin. Their tails having a mind of their own as Madeline's more nimble tail coiled around Waylon's like a serpent constricting its prey, taking the very air from its lungs just as Madeline took Waylon's breath away time and time again until they were both lying on the floor gasping for air, unable to move. The sun was rising and the amber light just cascading through the open doors of the balcony.

"That was... incredible." Madeline gasped, hardly able to get the words out.

"Best sex you've ever had?" Waylon suggested. It was certainly the best he'd ever had.

"Totally." Madeline beamed, rolling over and resting her head on Waylon's chest. "I'm going to miss it."

"Miss it? What?" Waylon asked with confusion. What was Madeline talking about?

"When we turn me back into a human." Madeline corrected, as if the answer was obvious. She curled up and sighed with delight as she drifted off into sleep in Waylon's arms.

"Oh yeah." Waylon realised, and frowned. He stared up at the ceiling and bit his lip. What was he going to do?

 **I would have given you more something something but I was playing with the rating enough as it was. Like I said, more frequent updates and I hope you enjoyed this emotional rollercoaster of a chapter.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter fifteen**

"It's impossible." Madeline announced as they sat in the makeshift lounge room of the Orphanage. Riddler was sat upright in one of those leather bucket chairs, focused as his mind raced with plans and schemes. Waylon was sat on the couch, sprawled out and not contributing much. He seemed to be half asleep. Madeline sat on the arm of the couch, one of Waylon's arms resting behind her so his hand could casually stroke the small of her back every so often. She had a packet of chips and munched them loudly as Riddler grew more and more frustrated with how little they were accomplishing.

"There has to be some way of getting into the facility. How else have they been getting you in and out all this time?" Riddler theorised, throwing his hands in the air. Madeline sighed.

"They knock me out before we leave and knock me out before I get back. I don't know the location and I don't know how to get there." Madeline protested, feeling accused. For all she knew the facility was in another city, or offshore somewhere. They were very good at keeping her knocked out for extended periods of time.

"And even if we did find it." Madeline added. "They have the means to capture us, and then where would we be."

"Do you want to be human again or not?" Riddler snapped, noticeably irritated. "Because all you've been doing is shutting down all my ideas and plans without contributing any yourself." Madeline was a little taken aback by this sudden outburst of protest. She hadn't seen Riddler get this mad before.

"Of course I want to be human again. I just don't want to end up a lab rat again either. I'm just saying we make a really good plan before we do anything." Madeline explained, feeling the need for a lawyer as if she were defending her case in a court of law. Riddler sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he were fighting off a headache. He looked up and glared at Waylon who was lightly snoring. He'd fallen asleep with all the boring talk of strategy and plans.

"Waylon." Riddler hissed, grinding his teeth together. "Wake up." Fearing an outburst from Riddler, Madeline prodded Waylon's leg with her foot to wake him up.

"Waylon!" Riddler snapped again.

"What?" Waylon grumbled, covering his eyes with his hands so the harsh lighting didn't sting his eyes.

"Do you have any sort of contribution to make? Or do you not care one way or the other." Riddler heckled, somewhat sounding like a scorned wife.

"Yeah. But I just do what I'm told. I'm too dumb to make plans or whatever." Waylon explained on a yawn, stretching his arms up and opening his mouth wide to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth. Madeline hadn't really payed much attention to how he looked, not for a long time at least, but it was strange looking at him now through new eyes. Yeah he'd changed a little since last she saw him, but the difference seemed to be more down to how she was seeing him rather than how he appeared.

When she was human, Waylon was his incredible defiance of nature wrapped up in muscle and danger, and peppered with just a little bit of forbidden fruit. He was this beast, the monster in a fairy tale, and to be poetic she kind of saw herself as that princess who fell in love with him despite his appearance. However, she was not entirely like Belle and did not want her beast to turn into a human when the curse was broken, she wanted him to stay like he was, wild and unpredictable, untameable, unless it was her. She had always groaned with irritation when in the movie Beast turned into the prince and looked so pathetic in comparison.

However, now that she looked at him through new eyes he didn't seem the same. Sure he was still formidable and dangerous, not to mention sexy in his own primal kind of way, but things he once did that Madeline was over cautious of, a growl here and there or a snarl or a snap, didn't seem as noticeable now. They just seemed like things he did and nothing more. It was strange to describe but he almost seemed more human to her now that _she_ wasn't human. Maybe human wasn't the right word to describe it. Normal, or at least normal to her. The way he treated her and the way she treated him, the way they now interacted was totally different. Sure she'd made fun of him some times but now she felt more like she could, and they'd argued before but never had she felt the ability to actually put more ferocity in her arguments. It was almost like up until now she had been eye candy, the latest flame on the arm of the big bad thug. It was the role of the eye candy to be just that, and she knew Waylon didn't see her like that but now that she had this new feeling in comparison, eye candy was the only way she could describe it. The eye candy had to be beautiful and flawless, and totally adore her big bad boy, but the way she felt now was more like an actually girlfriend. To put it plainly, she felt like she could be disgustingly gross around him and he would find it adorable, whereas before she had never felt like that. It was a nice feeling.

"You're not dumb." Madeline protested lightly, flopping down on her back across Waylon's lap. "You figured out it was me in this body." Waylon grinned.

"Yeah, only because of your ass though." He chuckled, putting one of his hands on Madeline's thigh and running it up to caress her hip and supple bottom. Madeline giggled and munched happily on her chips. She offered one to Waylon and snatched it up with his tongue.

"That's very cute and all but can we please stay focused on the task at hand." Riddler interrupted, reminding them both that they were not in the privacy of a bedroom. "Don't you want to become human too Waylon?"

"Wait. You want to become human?" Madeline asked, sitting up and looking concerned. This was the first she was hearing about it. Why? Why did he want to become human?

"Well yeah. I guess." Waylon explained, shrugging his shoulders as if it were no big deal. It was a very big deal. How could he be shrugging his shoulders at such a big, life changing decision as that. He was and had always been reptilian. Sure, the atavism had gotten worse over time and slowly made him less and less recognizable as being born of human parents, and in his early life he had been more human than reptile, but that was so long ago.

"How would that even work?" Madeline asked, looking to Riddler for answers with a concerned expression on her face.

"Well they seemed to be turning you from human to reptile and back again on a frequent basis, and we did observe them return you to human form using a _gene deactivation dosage_ or something like that." Riddler explained, the opportunity to be nerdy and scientific making him a little happier. "The plan was to get a sample of that formula _and_ a sample of what I can only assume is the _gene activation dosage_ so I can create a retrovirus capable of returning Waylon to a human form."

"But he was never human to begin with." Madeline objected, not even thinking about how her words might come across until she saw Waylon frown.

"Why don't you want me to become human?" Waylon asked, sounding concerned for Madeline's loyalty. The concern of betrayal in his tone made Madeline's heart feel heavy and guilt wrapped around it like a spiked tendril.

"I just mean... You've never really been human."

"I know I look like a freak but my parents were human. And I'm still technically human, all be it a genetically fucked up version of one."

He was starting to sound a little pissed off, and he wasn't making eye contact with Madeline anymore. How quickly things had gone from great to rotten, all because Madeline had to protest something as simple and justifiable as wanting to be human.

"I get that... it's just... you've been the way you are for so long I didn't think..."

"Madeline." Waylon interrupted, his tone softening to an almost pleading one. "Don't you want to be together. If I'm human we can be normal together, do normal stuff together, live in Gotham or wherever together and not hide away from the world."

"But would it still be you?" Madeline asked, not quite sure herself on what she meant by that.

"What do you mean?" Waylon asked, genuinely confused.

"I..." Madeline began, but she had no clue how to explain it. "...I don't know."

Waylon sighed rather loudly and with a slight growl behind it. He got up and stalked towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Riddler asked casually, but even he sounded a little concerned. Probably more for the integrity of his furniture than anything else after a Killer Croc rampage if there was going to be one.

"I need to take a leak." Waylon grumbled, and left the room. Madeline clenched her fist and slammed it on the arm rest of the couch.

"Hey hey hey!" Riddler protested, waving his arms about to stop Madeline. "Don't break my stuff."

"Sorry." Madeline sighed, putting her hands together on her lap so she didn't accidently mess anything else up. "Urgh, I'm such a bitch!"

"Yeah, kind of." Riddler agreed half heartedly. "I know it's none of my business but, why don't you want Waylon to be human?" Madeline bit her lip and cast her eyes down.

"I don't quite know." She confessed, desperately trying to come up with her reasons as to why. Why didn't she want him to be human? Wouldn't that be better for him? Wouldn't he be happier?

"I guess I'm worried that he'll change." Madeline theorized, unsure if she was explaining it right. "That he won't be himself anymore."

"What do you mean?" Riddler asked, sounding intrigued.

"Like... Urgh I don't know how to explain it. Err... what was Waylon like when he first came to Gotham. When he first stepped onto the criminal scene, when he was more humanlike?"

"Well I didn't have much to do with him back then but from what I know he was just hired muscle. He did well in that department because he was big, strong and looked scary."

"But personality wise. How did he act? What _vibe_ did you get from him?" Madeline insisted, slowly coming to realise what she was trying to figure out and how to explain it.

"Cocky." Riddler said flatly. "Arrogant, short tempered and very blood thirsty. I don't follow you though, he's always been like that."

"But what else?" Madeline encouraged. "What was different back then in comparison to now."

"I guess back then he was more sure of himself. He wanted to be a criminal king pin of Gotham and had plans to work his way up. Then he got more and more vicious and started devolving until he ended up like he is now and just wants to be left alone."

"Exactly!" Madeline exclaimed, a little too happily considering what they were talking about. "At some point in time Killer Croc became more than just his _stage name_ , so to speak. He considers Killer Croc to be a separate entity. Almost like another personality, one that acts independently and against his own interests."

"So are you saying Waylon has a personality disorder?" Riddler proposed, raising an eyebrow.

"No, not really." Madeline stuttered, trying to explain. She had it all figured out in her head but no way to get it down into words.

"He was like a stereotypical gang banger thug when he arrived right? Then his more vicious and hostile tendencies branched off into the form of what he recognises as Killer Croc. Kind of like a scapegoat for all the things he's done. His maleficent tendencies are separated into another persona, a more extreme persona than originally, but it's so his more... _charming_ , characteristics can come out when he's not Killer Croc. Do you understand?"

"Kind of." Riddler agreed with a nod. "So your worry is..?"

"I'm worried that without the extreme personality of Killer Croc to keep Waylon, for want of a better word, humble, he'd go back to being a gang banger thug." Madeline theorized, her shoulders slumping in dismay. "And those types of guys, and believe me I know, I've dated them before. Those types of guys don't want girlfriends. They just want hookers, drugs, money and power."

"If he went back to that though, wouldn't that be him returning to his normal behaviour? Returning to how he is _meant_ to be?" Riddler suggested, poking a big hole in Madeline's whole complicated theory.

"I guess so. But I mean... that can't be right. What about his childhood? All those feelings of self loathing and isolation. And when we first met he was like he is now, only looking less reptilian but still the same person."

"God I feel like a shrink." Riddler complained, leaning back in the chair. "I don't know, you need to talk to him about it. I'm tired of playing marriage councillor."

"How do I even broach that subject, it's not like I can just..."

Madeline stopped and stayed silent. Her silence must of startled Riddler because he sat still in fearful anticipation.

"What is it?" He asked, looking around as Madeline stayed very still, listening for the slightest of sounds.

"Where is my brother?" She asked quickly, still listening out.

"I sent him out to buy food since you guys eat so much. He shouldn't be back yet. Why?"

"We're not alone." Madeline said, the feeling of dread growing in her stomach like an acidic pit of darkness, creeping up into her chest. "You need to get out of here."

There was a loud crash as the wooden door burst open, wood splintering everywhere and hordes of militia marching in riot gear, guns at the ready. The windows shattered and more swung in through them. Even the staircase was covered as more flooded down from above. Every entrance and exit was blocked by more and more of these militia, all aiming their guns and tasers on Madeline.

"Edward. Get out of here." Madeline ordered, grabbing the couch and tossing it with all her might at the main door where most of the militia were coming from.

"How?" Riddler asking, panicked as he scanned around for an exit but all were blocked. Madeline thought quickly on what to do. Riddler would defiantly die if the militia opened fire, and she didn't know how good she'd be at defending him. An idea came to mind and she lifted up her foot as high as she could before slamming it down onto the wooden floor. As she had hoped, the floorboards splintered and broke away. She yanked a few up and then pushed Riddler down into the hole. The gaps in-between the floor and ground as well as the gaps between the walls would provide a decent escape route. Besides, the militia were here for her and not Riddler.

"Ma'am, we have subject 3871 in our sights, how do you wish for us to proceed." The commander of the unit announced into his radio.

"Oh no. I'm not coming easy." Madeline snapped, grabbing one of the militia and tossing him against the wall. She hadn't used her newfound strength in a fight yet but was definitely eager to try. She threw the bucket chair at some of the militia and then charged for a large group of them. She knew they wouldn't kill her, they needed her alive. She was their prize test subject and now that she had her sanity back she had to be even more valuable. She charged on all fours, running like a beast in a way that seemed to come naturally to her. She shouldered the militia with a great deal of force, knocking them to the ground and sweeping her tail around, shoving them against the wall with more impact than she had anticipated. This body was very useful.

"Orders are to keep subject alive and conscious." The commander announced loudly, signalling for more militia to move in. They had a strange and heavy gun at their disposal, one that Madeline had never seen before. It looked deadly, but it couldn't be considering what their boss had just said.

"I'm not going back." Madeline snapped, glaring at the commander. "No gun is going to stop me." Madeline charged for the commander who surprisingly tossed his gun aside and raised his arms in defence. Madeline was bigger than him but he was incredibly talented and versatile. He dodged all her attacks and leaped into the air when she tried to knock him over with her tail. Still, Madeline was not a push over and continued the assault. She was still getting used to fighting, even if it did come naturally in this body, and found out quickly that Waylon's fairly vicious and straight forward style of fighting did not suit her. She was faster than he ever was and used that to her advantage. She slashed and kicked with lightening strikes but was amazed that this guy, a mere human, would not be brought down. She sped up the pace, all she needed was one good hit to beat him. He may have been talented, but he wasn't invincible. Soon, she noticed a slow in his movements, his blocks just about coming up in time to save him. Madeline grinned. He was losing. She very quickly ducked to the floor, spun around onto her side and kicked upwards, knocking the commanders helmet off and pouncing on top of him as he fell to the floor. She instinctively went to slash his face off, to end his life, to actually kill someone, but stopped before her claws met his face. His familiar face.

"Jason?" Madeline gasped, her whole body going rigid as she glared down at her neighbour. She didn't know what to say other than to gasp like a fish out of water. This was Jason. The old Robin turned Arkham Knight turned test subject. Why was he here and why was he working for the people that had tortured him?

"Fire!" Jason yelled, and there was a loud bang as the strange weapon fired in Madeline's direction. Madeline was too in shock to move fast enough out of the way and a large metal net wrapped around her, knocking her away from Jason and pinning her to the ground. It was heavy, too heavy for her to escape from.

There was a loud, deafening roar from the other side of the building, growing louder as it approached at an astonishing rate.

"Sir, Subject 2493 is approaching. How do you wish for us to proceed?" One of the soldiers asked, his gun on the open doorway.

"Let him come." Jason said, getting up off the floor and walking over to Madeline. He pulled out a gun and pressed it against Madeline's head.

"Madeline!" Waylon roared, panic in his voice as well as anger and dread. He forced his way into the room but stopped when he saw the situation. All of the militia backed off and stayed as far away from him as physically possible. Waylon seemed to freeze up in place when he saw Madeline with the gun to her head. Jason smirked.

"Let her go or I'll tear you in half." Waylon threatened, calmly but with so much hate in his voice it made Madeline shiver.

"No." Jason said plainly. "Surrender willingly and I won't blow her pretty little brains out."

"He won't kill me!" Madeline blurted out. "They need me, he said so himself." Jason chuckled at Madeline's quick thinking. Waylon was still hesitant to act but it was obvious the idea was in his head.

"You are absolutely right. I won't kill you." Jason said jovially, and then turned his attention back to Waylon. "But you are still going to surrender willingly or..." Jason lowered the gun from Madeline's head to the middle of her back, the cold metal of the gun pressing against her spine.

"I'll paralyse her."

"No!" Waylon protested, clearly very panicked and unsure how to proceed. "I'll surrender." He very quickly put his hands on the back of his head and dropped to his knees.

"Good." Jason said flatly, and then gestured for some of his militia to approach with what looked like a large metal collar.

It had to be the electroshock collar Madeline had heard horror stories about, and her theory was certainly verified when Waylon's face turned pale and his eyes filled with fear upon seeing it.

"No." He whispered, sounding like an alcoholic about to relapse against their own will after such a long time sober. "Not again."

"I won't remove my gun until it's on." Jason threatened, clearly frustrated with the whole ordeal. Waylon gritted his teeth but closed his eyes and allowed the militia to clamp the metal collar around his neck once again. It was painful to watch, and Madeline felt so miserable for him as he was caged and rendered a tool once more.

"Good." Jason said, removing the gun from Madeline's back. Some of the militia came over and dragged the metal net from Madeline.

"Same goes for you sweetheart. Make a move and we fry his brains until they're nothing but mush. You hear me?"

"I hear you, _Jason_." Madeline hissed, his name like acid on her tongue. She couldn't believe she had considered him a friend.

"Sir." One of the militia said, going up to Jason who was collecting his helmet from the floor. "She's here."

"Good. Positions!" Jason ordered, and the militia formed into neat and orderly lines around the room.

Madeline had never thought the sound of heels could be so terrifying, but that was the sound that sent shivers down her spine. The tapping of heals slowly walking down the hall was more terrifying than any creaky door in a horror house or the haunting whistle of the wind through a crack in the window. As it drew closer and closer the sense of fear and dread grew heavy in the air, weighing down heavier on Madeline's shoulders until finally, she felt like the metal net would be a relief. Then, _she_ emerged, the mastermind behind the facility that had turned Madeline into the creature she had become, the ones who brought her back from the dead.

"You." Madeline hissed, the hatred boiling her blood at 1000°C. It was the woman in the hazmat suit, only now she was in a formal black pinstripe suit, white blouse and black tie. She was an older woman as Madeline had expected, with greyish blond hair in a very 50s short style. She was glamorous to say the least, and very intimidating.

"Hello Madeline." She said, almost sounding like a giddy high school girl which was very confusing. "It's so nice to talk to you face to face and not have you trying to kill me."

"Don't worry. The desire to do so is still there." Madeline hissed. She so wanted to lunge for the woman and rip her throat out with her teeth like a savage animal. There was nothing restraining her from doing so and none of the militia could react in time to save their boss. Only there was something restraining her. Waylon, and that shock collar around his neck kept her in place and obedient.

"Good. I wouldn't have it any other way." The woman said cheerfully, her eyes practically gleaming. It was like she was high or something.

"How did you find us?" Waylon growled weakly, the emotional drain from having the electric collar put back on showing through. He must have been using every ounce of his willpower to not lose control.

"A simple little trick." The woman said as one of the militia approached with something in his hand. The woman took it and held it up. It appeared to be a green tie. One of Riddler's? The woman pulled out a small little microchip with a red light on it from under the tie, near the knot that Riddler hadn't undone when he'd taken it off. It was a tracker.

"You all did very well in acting according to my plan." She beamed, tossing the tie aside and pocketing the chip. "All so predictable. Well done."

"You bitch!" Madeline snapped, having to use all of _her_ strength to keep her feet grounded and not kill the woman where she stood.

"Tsk tsk tsk. That's no way to speak to your new boss." The woman scolded, confusing Madeline even more.

"I would never work for you, no matter what you threatened to do to me." Madeline hissed, spitting a little with her words to make some kind of attempt at _hurting_ the woman.

"Oh but you will. You will do exactly as I say without question." The woman said, sauntering forward until she was practically stood face to face with Madeline. "Or else. _Boom_!"

Madeline grinned, and then laughed, loudly and heartily. For once this woman _didn't_ have the upper hand.

"You think you can threaten me with that bomb in my neck. Ha! Guess what lady, we diffused it when they shocked my sanity back into me." Madeline boasted. She was expecting for the woman to turn pale with dread or red with anger. To look upset or worried, or irritated at the very least. But out of all the reactions to have, she chose laughter. It was a worrying laughter. The laughter of triumph.

"Oh honey." She chuckled, practically tearing up it was so amusing. "I'm not threatening you with the bomb in your neck."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm threatening you with the bomb in _his_ neck." The woman said, gesturing towards Waylon.

"What!" Waylon snapped, looking even more panicked but reinvigorated with newfound anger.

"Oh darling. You didn't think I'd have you coming in and out of my facilities again and again without a little insurance do you?" The woman chuckled, and then tapped her own neck. "Iron Heights baby." Before acknowledging Waylon's rage at her the woman turned her attention back to Madeline.

"It is detonated by a certain code, a code that only _I_ know. And it can't be diffused by electricity or removed via surgery."

They were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. There was no way out of this. Would there ever be a way out of this. The woman seemed to have every basis covered, every possible approach thought out and planned for. It seemed like she knew what was going to happen when, where and how. It was like she had omnipotence or something.

"We'll talk more about it when we get you back to base. That was where you wanted to go right? To get some of the gene activation and deactivation dosages to retro engineer a cure for Waylon's atavism, right?" The woman said with a smirk. She knew so much about everything, but to make matters worse, as they loaded Waylon into the van outside the orphanage and put Madeline in a separate one, the woman wouldn't stop humming the _Hush Little Baby_ tune.

 **Oh no, they've been captured again. At least this time they're together. I wonder what job the woman has in store for them?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

When Madeline woke up she was lying in a very comfortable bed. The sheets were white and made of silk, the hypoallergenic kind. The pillows were big and puffy but had just enough give to make it feel like you were sleeping on a cloud. The mattress was firm but not like concrete, good for sleeping and for your back. Even the room smelt nice, a slight hint of honey and milk to make you feel more at ease. It was such a comfortable bed Madeline almost didn't want to get up, she could have happily slept for a couple more hours, but when she remembered what had happened back at the orphanage, relaxed was the last thing she could be.

She sat bolt upright and looked around. The room was also white, everything was white. White walls and white tiled floor, white ceiling and white furniture, even the television was white which was strange because Madeline didn't think they made white televisions. The door was white and almost blended into the wall but the white handle cast a small shadow in the white florescent light to reveal its presence. It was a very sterile room, like a clean room in a hospital, or something from science fiction. It made Madeline feel more uncomfortable by the second, even more uncomfortable than she had been in her tiny cell. She was definitely in the secret facility again, but not being treated as a prisoner. Still, she most certainly wasn't a guest.

They had dressed her now human body, in a white singlet and white shorts, baggy and loose for comfort but still so sterile and authoritarian she just wanted to trade them in for some good old stained sweatpants and oversized hoodie. It was a little chilly so a jumper would have been nice but there was no alternative clothing available in the white dresser.

"Suppose it's just for show." Madeline muttered to herself as she closed the draws and turned her attention to the door. It was most likely locked but like every person in every cliché movie she went to jiggle the lock in a vain attempt to open it. Naturally, the door was locked tight.

"I would be so lucky." Madeline sighed to herself, turned around and scanning the room for another way out. There weren't any windows so what other possible escape could she manage.

The door clicked and opened from the outside. Madeline jumped back and raised her arms up in defence. She was prepared to fight off any intruder. Sure, she didn't know how to fight as a human, but perhaps her skills were transferable. She had expected people in hazmat suits to barge in and restrain her to take her for more testing or something, but oddly enough to the person intruding walked in rather casually and looked surprised to see Madeline on the defensive. Madeline was surprised to see them too, but also very enraged by their presence.

"Jason." She spat, his name now acid on her tongue. "Traitor." Jason chuckled lightly and opened the door fully, leaning against it casually but also blocking the doorway so Madeline couldn't escape.

"You're mad at me." He said so very matter-of-factly, as if it was no big deal. Well to him it had all been some scheme or ploy to make Madeline trust him so she'd give him details to feed back to the facility and the doctors. The whole thing about being a subject as well was most likely a lie. Madeline couldn't practically imagine it. Jason sitting on a deck chair sipping cocktails next to Madeline's cell pretending he was in the same situation.

"I didn't..."

"Don't talk to me!" Madeline hissed, dropping her guard and folding her arms. "You traitor. What was your objective huh? Make me trust you so I'd tell you all the little details you needed to capture Waylon or something?"

"Well I didn't get much..."

"What did I say?" Madeline snapped, silencing him. Okay, she had told him to not speak and then asked a question, but she was pissed she was allowed to be indecisive. Jason pursed his lips and glared at her, but a smile was creeping from the corners of his mouth until he chuckled once more.

"You are something else you know that?" He said quickly before Madeline could interrupt and silence him again. Madeline didn't know why but that comment made her blush like a school girl and turned her legs to jelly.

"Can I speak now?" Jason asked after Madeline stayed awkwardly silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. Madeline nodded quickly, she was still trying to figure out why her heart was racing and the butterflies in her stomach were being sent into epileptic fits. She didn't dare look at Jason now, and she had no clue why she couldn't look at him anymore.

"I didn't lie to you about being a subject. I really was trapped in the cell next to you." Jason began, sounding sincere. "Just like they took you out for your missions once a day, they took me out not long afterwards to re-capture you."

"Why you?" Madeline asked, looking up as she spoke. That was a mistake because her voice went all silly and awkward. Once her eyes were up she couldn't get them back down again. She hadn't realised it before but Jason was fucking gorgeous. Strong jaw, cleft chin, roman nose. He had a firm brow and piercing blue eyes that had seen horrors that beggared belief, but soft lips that added just enough softness to his face to allow for a cheeky grin to be so good looking. He had the letter J carved into his cheek, scared over but still very noticeable, but other than that his face was flawless. What was Madeline thinking, she wasn't allowed to find another guy good looking. Well, she was allowed to find another guy good looking but she wasn't allowed to feel all girly and about to swoon when looking at him. What was wrong with her? She had a boyfriend, and he was trapped somewhere in the same building, maybe even in the room next door.

"They put you next to me so we'd get along which would make their master plan run much more smoothly. That was their intention, not mine. I just unwittingly followed along."

"Why? You're smart and you were a good guy once. Why work for the bad guys now?" Madeline asked, feeling like merely talking to Jason was equivalent to cheating on Waylon with him.

"Well I was a bad guy for a bit before all of this, being the Arkham Knight and all." Jason corrected, sounding a little bitter when mentioning his previous alias. "But now I work for them for the same reason you are going to."

"I am _not_ working for them." Madeline snapped in protest.

"Oh yes you will." Jason said, tilting his head to the side and tapping the side of his neck with his finger. "Or else, _boom_." Madeline clutched at her neck and felt a small, new scar.

"They put another one in." Jason answered before Madeline could ask. "And this one is electricity proof so its staying in there."

Madeline didn't respond, she was looking at Jason again with a puzzled expression. Why was he making her feel this way? She felt like she had fallen for the high school heart throb and was some love struck teenager fawning over him and drawing cute little love hearts all over her chemistry book with their initials in the centre. What the fuck was with that?

"Anyway, I've been sent to bring you to the Director." Jason said, stepping to the side of the doorway so the exit was clear again. "Also don't worry, it'll wear off."

"What?" Madeline asked, caught off guard in her unwilling fantasies about high school.

"Being in love with me. Its caused by a chemical imbalance, a side effect from being transformed from human to lizard and back again. Before now they'd correct it before waking you up but this time they let you sleep on your own."

"Wait so this is all a side effect?" Madeline asked, hopeful that she wasn't going to end up being a cheating bitch. Jason grinned.

"Yep, all chemical." Jason reassured, laughing a little as another thought came to mind. "It also explains why whenever they turned you into a lizard you got all horny and starting trying to rub yourself against the person you were supposed to be fighting."

"Wait, I did what?" Madeline gasped, outraged that they'd made her do such a thing.

"Come on, the Director is waiting for you." Jason said, stepping out into the hallway and beckoning for Madeline to follow without even giving her a response to her outrage.

Madeline begrudgingly followed him down the white hallway and into a white elevator with large glass windows that allowed for them to look out over the facilities main space. It was a big pentagon shaped room with large doors at each side leading to different parts of the facility. One had _'Testing_ ' written on it, another ' _Bioengineering_ ', ' _Containment_ ', _'Training rooms_ ' and whatever name was on the side of the elevator, Madeline couldn't read it from that angle. She could see lots of people walking about below them as the elevator moved up, some in hazmat suits and others in regular clothes, as well as one or two in similar white clothes to Madeline. Other subjects perhaps?

The elevator continued up and eventually onto the floor above the main room where it came to a stop. A panel on the elevator lit up and showed the face of a woman in typical secretary ware with her hair slicked back into a tight ponytail that seemed to make facial expressions limiting. Jason pressed the button just below the panel and spoke into the microphone.

"This is Agent Todd, security number 3256. I have subject 3871 here to see the director." He said rather quickly, the formal jargon no doubt irritating after a while. The secretary appeared to type in some numbers onto a computer and then reached for a button.

"Letting you in now. Just a moment." She said, and the panel switched off. Sensors appeared in each corner of the elevator and began to scan them both.

"Don't worry. It's just making sure we don't have any weapons." Jason reassured Madeline before she'd even had a chance to object. She wasn't actually that stressed out by a couple of scanners.

"Security number 3256, huh?" Madeline asked as the scanning continued. "I thought that was your subject number?"

"Well once you sign a contract of employment it becomes your access number. It's easier that way, and the staff can always check in the systems to see what they need to be wary of when working with you."

"Isn't that a hindrance?" Madeline suggested, the scanners finally stopping and the door to the elevator opening into another sterile white room.

"No." Jason replied rather cheerfully. "Actually it kinda helps. People tend to leave you alone when they learn you were trained by Batman."

The room before them was sterile and white but also uncomfortably long considering it was the secretary's office. The white desk was the only piece of furniture in the room, that and the white chair the secretary dressed in white was sitting on to do her work at the white computer. Every footstep echoed as they walked forward, bouncing off the walls around them and encouraging a daunting feeling of dread to form in Madeline's stomach. She was going to meet the woman in the hazmat suit again, this time in a more professional manner, she had good reason to feel uncomfortable. The idea of trying to kill the woman had crossed her mind, but no doubt the bomb in her neck was rigged to explode if she got so close to the director or something like that.

When they reached the desk the secretary continued to type into her computer and didn't even look up to acknowledge them. Jason stood patiently but Madeline couldn't keep still. She was nervous about meeting this woman, it felt like she was back in primary school and had been sent to see the principle for the first time, the amount of authority the figure behind the door held was unknown to a young mind that had never faced it. Of course that was in the days when kids didn't know that the principle, or any teacher for that matter, couldn't actually do anything to them. Then again, that was back in the days when it was perfectly acceptable for a teacher to drag a disobedient child into the time out corner, back in the days before so much as looking at children got the child protective services foaming at the mouth and clawing at the front door.

"Card." The secretary said after an uncomfortable amount of time, still not looking up at them though. Jason handed her what Madeline assumed to be his ID card. The woman glanced at it and then handed it back.

"Card." She said again, holding her hand out for Madeline to give her hers.

"She doesn't have one yet." Jason corrected and the secretary looked up, staring at Madeline with suspicion.

"Can I see the stamp?" She asked, peering at Jason as if he were trying to sneak Madeline in or something. Stamp? What stamp?

"Madeline turn around." Jason said, but then forcefully swived Madeline on the spot out of impatience and lifted up the back of her shirt.

"Hey!" Madeline protested, yanking her shirt back down and holding it fast. "What the hell!"

"Yeah I saw it." The secretary said plainly, sounding slightly relieved that they weren't here to cause trouble.

"Saw what? I have a stamp on me?" Madeline protested, trying to look over her shoulder to see it but with no such look.

"It's just an ID tag." Jason sighed, as if having identification tattooed onto you without your knowledge was no big deal. He turned around and lifted up the back of his shirt to reveal a small round tattoo, completely white with two black circles for eyes. It was a strange tattoo, especially for identification, but then again everything about everything was strange with these guys.

What was also strange but quite predictable was how muscular Jason's back was. Madeline had always had a thing for muscular backs and oh my god his back was just gorgeous. Strong muscles, smooth dip with the curve of his spine, and plenty of scars to give them that worn warrior kind of vibe in a Hugh Jackman's Wolverine kind of way. It must have been those hormones acting up again because she couldn't tare her eyes away from him. He was amazing. She managed to avert eyes just in time to see the secretary staring at Jason too, and biting her lip as well. She averted her eyes just in time to make eye contact with Madeline before they both looked away and pretended nothing had happened. Jason seemed oblivious to the amount of oestrogen he had just added to the room through that simple act of showing his muscular back. Or maybe he was aware and just enjoying it, Madeline couldn't tell.

"I'll send you in now." The secretary said quickly, obviously very flustered, and she certainly didn't have any hormones screwing her brain up after being turned from a lizard into a human.

"Go on in." Jason said, stepping aside so Madeline could go through. "I'll wait outside." Madeline took a deep breath and went to move but her legs wouldn't obey her commands. She was nervous. She was about to talk to the woman responsible for bringing her back to life, for turning her into a lizard creature to fight Waylon. The reason he was now back in irons in their facility and Madeline was their... what? Honoured guest? Potential employee?

"Go on." Jason encouraged, crossing his arms and raising his brow at Madeline's hesitation. Madeline scowled at the open doorway and forced her legs to obey her commands. She strode in and the doors shut very quickly behind her.

There was no one in the office. No director, no woman in a hazmat suit or wearing pinstripe. It was completely empty. It was a very small office in comparison to the room they had just been in, and the fondness of open spaces this facility seemed to have. It was more like a tax accountants office than the office of the person who ran a secret facility for creating monsters and super soldiers. The white desk was covered in stationary and there was a rug on the floor so it didn't feel so sterile. There was even a potted plant in the corner with big leaves that spilled into the rest of the space almost making the room feel kind of cluttered. There were generic pictures of sunsets and landscapes on the two walls that weren't being used for the door or the big window that looked out over the... ocean?

Madeline darted over behind the desk and peered out of the window, her face pressed up against the glass like a child desperate to outside play in the snow on Christmas morning. She couldn't believe it, they were on some sort of tropical island with palm trees and a golden beach. The ocean looked stunning, so tropical and blue she just wanted to go for a swim. But it was so strange, what was a facility like this doing on a tropical island? She hadn't imaged there were many places like this left that didn't have multistorey hotels built on them.

"It's not real you know." A familiar woman's voice said, and Madeline spun around to see the woman she had been having nightmares about standing in the doorway. Now that they weren't in dimly lit abandoned orphanage Madeline could see her features properly. She was old. Really old in fact, yet still held a level of sass and ' _school teacher_ ' authority in her stance that could seduce a man maybe ten or fifteen years younger than her. Her hair was more blonde than grey, permed into a short 50s style. She wore a black suit with a charcoal blouse, black tie and black shoes. The suit was tapered in at the waist giving her an hourglass figure. Her eyes were outlined in black but she didn't have so much makeup on that it made her look like mutton dressed a lamb, just enough for regal beauty while ageing gracefully.

"Hello Madeline. Nice to finally meet you in more civilised circumstances." The woman said with a smile of satisfaction and triumph. "My name is Kathryn, I'm the Director of this institution."

"You're the woman in the hazmat suit." Madeline accused, feeling a flood of hatred wash away any nerves she had been feeling. Kathryn chuckled.

"Indeed I am. I have to say Madeline, you exceeded my expectations." Kathryn said, sounding impressed but in a way that made it about her and not Madeline.

"What are you talking about?" Madeline snapped. "You expected me to get killed or something?"

"No, of course not." Kathryn said simply, shaking her head. "Can you please come and sit in this chair so I can go and sit in mine. We're all back to front here." Kathryn gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk. Madeline scowled at her but did oblige. She really wanted to punch the old lady in the face but as much as that went against her personal beliefs she could also feel the bomb in her neck start to buzz as the thought entered her mind. Was it psychic or something?

Madeline slumped down in the chair and Kathryn settled down very elegantly in hers. She rested her arms on the desk.

"Can I get you anything? A glass of water perhaps?" Kathryn asked, not really offering to get it herself but rather suggesting the secretary get it for her.

"No way." Madeline snapped, suspicious of poison or something else. Her attention turned back to the window and the ocean view. The view was skewed somehow, rather than showing her more of the view to the right like it should from the angle she was sitting, it instead just warped sideways. It wasn't a real view. It was a screen with the image playing on it. Kathryn reached around the side of the screen and switched it off. The room felt so much more colder now that the beach wasn't just outside.

"Let's begin shall we?" Kathryn suggested, reaching into her desk draws and pulling out a small collection of papers stapled together. She put them on the desk and swivelled them around to slide them across to Madeline. She placed a pen next to the documents.

"If you'll just sign your contract at the bottom." Kathryn encouraged after Madeline didn't make any attempt to sign it.

"And if I don't?" Madeline hissed. "Do I get to go free?"

"Hmm." Kathryn sounded through pursed lips that formed into a tight smile. "How about I go over some of our ' _employee_ _benefits_ '."

"What, you gonna tell me about your great dental plan?" Madeline sneered, slightly amused by her own joke. Sarcasm was always a great place to go when you were feeling as pissed off as she was feeling. Perhaps it was the hormones again, or perhaps she really did have the desire to rip this woman's head off and shove it down the exposed throat hole.

"We have a great range of benefits for our staff members." Kathryn began, deliberately sounding like an advertisement for a holiday resort. "They include accommodation with a maid service and free laundry, access to a buffet for three meals a day and access to the canteen in-between meals for snacks and treats and the like. We provide a free gym membership for our staff as well as access to an Olympic swimming pool, and we even have a bar that serves cocktails until eleven."

"What's the catch?" Madeline asked with a cocky grin. Jesus she was making this place out to be a holiday resort and not the living hell Madeline had already experienced.

"You simply allow us to perform whatever experiments we want to on you and do whatever tasks or missions we require. And of course you can never leave but who would want to." Kathryn explained, sounding like the idea of someone wanting freedom could be easily subdued with cocktails and laundry service. "It's so hard to survive in the outside world, especially Gotham. Young women such as yourself have to turn to _alternative_ means of income." Madeline felt a pang of searing hatred claw its way through her chest. Kathryn was taking a person jab at Madeline's career choice. Sure being a stripper wasn't the classiest of jobs but how dare she even suggest that it was on a par with prostitution. Was she suggesting that? Madeline wasn't sure but it felt like she was.

Sensing Madeline's irritation, Kathryn slide the document back over to her side of the table.

"If you don't want to sign the contract then I suppose I'll just put you back in your cell."

"Wait!" Madeline called out, her body launching forward of its own accord. She had one hand on the table, standing now and reaching out across the desk for the document Kathryn was about to put back in the draw. She hadn't meant to react so emotionally but the fear of going back into that hell hole was far too real. Kathryn hadn't even flinched when Madeline had made a move, which could have been interpreted as an attempt to attack her. It was like she'd expected it. Heck, she'd probably planned it.

"Changed your mind?" She asked with a sinister smile and a raise of an eyebrow.

"Give it here." Madeline sighed, snatching the document as Kathryn offered it and signing her name down at the bottom. It was only then she realised she hadn't actually read the document itself but Kathryn had snatched it back and filed it away before she'd had the chance. She could have signed up for so much more than just experiments and tasks, but now she'd never know.

"Wonderful, I'm so glad you chose to join us. I told my employers you'd be a tough nut to crack but we got there in the end." Kathryn beamed, seeming very pleased with herself.

"Your employers? I thought you were in charge?" Madeline asked, sitting back down and crossing her arms. She felt very foolish and helpless.

"I'm the director of _this_ facility. I have many superiors. In comparison I'm just a pawn in the operations. Scratch that, actually _you're_ the pawn, I'm more of a knight."

"I don't care for your stupid chess analogies." Madeline grumbled, not interested in learning about who was in charge. She didn't have any desire to hunt them down out of vengeance, she'd be happy just dealing with Kathryn and then leaving for good.

"What do you care about then?" Kathryn asked, suddenly sounded like a psychiatrist.

"Waylon." Madeline answered quickly, regretting not asking about him sooner. She'd been so caught up in the hormones raging over Jason's bare back that she'd almost forgotten about her actual boyfriend. Damn, she was a real bitch.

"What about him?" Kathryn asked, actually sounding eager to answer any questions.

"Where is he?" Madeline asked softly, she really should have been demanding his location but she was feeling rather drained all of a sudden. "Are you going to offer him the same contract because he won't take it."

"We aren't able to offer Waylon Jones this contract. He is too _different_ to allow among our staff and to give free rein over the facility." Kathryn explained, actually sounding disappointed. Madeline was still trying to figure out if Kathryn was the world's best actor or actually genuine.

"I thought companies had to have an inclusion initiative or something. Equal opportunity for all races, religions and cultures." Madeline suggested with a smirk of her own.

"Yes well, I don't think the human resources department has anything about giant, cannibalistic crocodiles in their guidelines." Kathryn explained with an equally satisfied smirk. "No, he will be kept in a cell in the containment division. Don't worry, it's a big cell and we'll feed him three times a day..."

" _DON'T_ talk about him like he's an animal." Madeline hissed, getting to her feet. Okay, now she was getting the energy back and defending her boyfriend like a good girlfriend should.

"But he _is_ an animal, darling. And you were too not so long ago." Kathryn reminded, again not fazed by the sudden movement that could have been perceived as threatening. "Do you have any questions? I am a very busy woman."

"Yeah, I have a few." Madeline grumbled, sitting back down and trying to think of something to ask. If she couldn't hurt Kathryn she could at least put her behind schedule.

"Ask away."

"How did you find us at the orphanage." She asked, peering at Kathryn to make sure she'd detect any lies.

"You already know that." Kathryn replied with a heavy sigh and a smile. "The tracker on Edward Nygma's tie."

"Yes, but how did it get there." Madeline asked, correcting her question before her pride was too greatly wounded.

"Easy. During their little plan to capture you a few days ago so they could zap you back into sanity, _I still have no idea how that even worked_."

"So what? You got someone to sneak it on? Someone to go up and seduce him or something?" Madeline suggested. She was clutching at straws here, Waylon and Riddler hadn't told her anything about that night.

"Oh no, nothing so flashy. Besides, Edward is a smart man, he'd realise something was amiss when a beautiful woman went up to him and started playing with his tie. No, I put the tracker there myself."

"You were there?" Madeline gasped, surprised that Kathryn actually left the facility.

"Of course, I have an identity to upkeep. It wasn't hard. In all the rush to get out of the building after you showed up he bumped into me. Nearly knocked me over but I did manage to get the tracker in place."

"Okay..." Madeline said, trying to think of another question. "Why me? Why go to the trouble of bringing me back to life and turning me into a lizard creature, only to have me escape and for you to have to go and catch me again? Was that just so you could re-capture Waylon?"

"I'm afraid I don't know why my employers wanted us bring you back or why they want you at all for their experiments. I personally saw no use for you, but then again, I'm old fashioned. As for Waylon, we could have easily recaptured him at any time, but my employers needed him free in order for their plan to work."

"What plan?"

Kathryn grinned and tapped the side of her nose.

"I can't answer all the questions." She beamed with a grin. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Can I see Waylon?" Madeline asked, standing up to leave. She prayed Kathryn said yes.

"Yes you can. Through the glass of course but you can _see_ him whenever you like." Kathryn replied, and Madeline was taken aback by the answer. She had expected them to deny visiting rights to their biggest and baddest of inmates. Employee benefits _did_ pay off.

"If that is all, I really need to get back to my work." Kathryn reminded, turning her computer. "You may leave."

"One last question." Madeline said as she stood in the doorway, about to go.

"Yes?"

"Who _are_ you people?" She asked, and did not expect an answer. Kathryn turned to her and smile, clasping her hands together on the desk.

"We are the Court of Owls."

Edward dropped his cigarette onto the floor and crushed it with his foot, rubbing the burn out tobacco and paper into the ground. He didn't usually smoke but he was feeling very stressed and very angry. It was raining, pouring down with a low, rumbling storm approaching. The Gotham River looked black and bottomless, void of all life. It almost looked like the river Styx, filled with dead souls. The Gotham river was indeed filled with dead souls, and Edward planned to add another to the long, long list. He popped the trunk of his car and revealed a terrified, teary eyed girl dressed in stained finery, her makeup running down her face as she struggled against the bonds that held her fast. Her auburn hair, that she had no doubt spent hours preparing for the wonderful evening she had anticipated, now messy and scraggly, making her look like a drowned water rat.

Edward hauled her out of the trunk which was very easy due to how slight she was, and dragged her over to the water's edge. She was still gagged so her muffled protests just went in one ear and out the other. Edward didn't want to hear what pathetic excuses she had, nothing would make him forgive her for tricking him like that. Sure, he could accept the fact he was socially awkward and could not get any woman to pay him the slightest bit of attention. But _she_ had tugged at his heart strings in a way no one had ever done before. He had actually fallen in love with her, or rather, the person she had pretended to be in order to slip the tracking device under his tie when _pretending_ to fix it for him. He had watched from within the walls of the orphanage when the militia had shown up and that woman in a suit had revealed the location of the tracker on his tie, _his_ tie that _this_ woman had placed there. It had been a while since he had killed anyone, and he usually chose to pay someone else to do it for him. But this was personal, he _had_ to be the one to do it.

He left Adalicia by the edge. She had her hands and legs tied up so she wasn't going to go anywhere. He went back to the trunk of his car and struggled as he lifted a cinder block out. He quickly carried it over to Adalicia and dumped it next to her. She screamed from behind the gag as it thudded down. Edward collected the second cinderblock and then a bit of rope to tie them to her legs. Adalicia screamed and tried to kick her legs free as Edward fastened them to the cinderblocks. One leg per block. Her wriggling made it very hard to tie them.

"Silence!" Edward screamed, swinging his hand around and slapping Adalicia across the face. It silenced her screaming and halted her wriggling but she continued to weep and sob in a very unattractive manner.

"This is your own fault you know." Edward hissed as he tied the last knot. "Get up!" He pulled Adalicia to her feet and stood face to face with her as she quivered before him.

"Your people invaded my home, destroyed it and took my friends. Left me homeless and without any of my documents. But more importantly you tricked me, and I hate to be tricked." He growled, staring straight into Adalicia's bloodshot, crystalline blue eyes. He took a deep breath. He tried to think of a riddle to say, some clever riddle about death or drowning but he couldn't think straight. Damn her, the thought of her death actually made him sad. He felt tears welling in his eyes and couldn't bring himself to speak. So he didn't. He kicked off the cinderblocks and Adalicia fell into the water, screaming. There was a splash that settled quickly, and a flurry of bubble floated to the surface for a good while. Then, the bubbles stopped, leaving the water as still and tranquil as death itself. Edward turned around, got in his car, and left.

 **Noooo, Edward it wasn't her. Oh well. Sorry this was late, I have no excuse other than Mass Effect, drawing and singing on my Instagram. I will try to be better. I hope you enjoyed that chapter and I promise you the next chapter is going to actually have Waylon in it.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

The collar made Waylon's neck very itchy, but also prohibited him from scratching it. It had been a while since he'd had this damn thing strapped around his neck, but the minute they had clamped it on all the days spent being experimented on in Iron Heights and Arkham seemed like they happened only yesterday. These people, whoever they were, had placed him in a very large cell with glass windows on all but one wall, so his privacy was practically none existent. There was the tiniest little room for the toilet but he just felt claustrophobic in there. Scientists in hazmat suits walked around outside the cell, marking data down on their clipboards and glancing at Waylon as if he were some boring zoo animal and not an actual person. Or at least had once been a person. The cell didn't have anything else interesting in it other than a very large but very thin mattress that did not look comfortable in the least. There was nothing for entertainment purposes, not even a TV. What did they think he was going to do, hack the TV to send out a signal or something. Please, they knew he was as dumb as a sack of bricks. What was he supposed to do all day. He knew the answer to that. Experiments and tests would make up his endless days here. At least these guys didn't have him locked in a grotty cage or strapped to a freaking chair like the people at Iron Heights did. He couldn't believe he was happy that _this_ operation was more professional. They were all assholes.

"Okay Croc, time for your lunch order." A familiar but long forgotten voice said and Waylon glanced over at one of the windows where a man who was not dressed in a hazmat suit was standing. He was a tall man, black skin, short military cut hair, and an arrogant voice that held disgust and pity in the same tone. Waylon stalked forward and glared at the figure, scanning him up and down and smirking when his eyes landed on the hook hand.

"They brought you back from the dead but they couldn't give you a new hand, huh Cash?" Waylon growled with a menacing smirk, quite pleased that even resurrected Cash would have to walk around with a constant reminded of that day Waylon tore his hand off.

"Funny." Cash spat dryly, crossing his arms and sighing a heavy sigh. As much as he must have hated Waylon he seemed somewhat happy that Waylon was before him once more. Maybe it was because Waylon was locked up again, trapped behind glass with a shock collar on like a vicious dog. Or perhaps it was because this facility that seemed to resurrect the dead didn't have any other familiar faces in it and seeing one, even if it was Waylon Jones, was a comfort. That was oddly enough how Waylon felt upon seeing Cash.

"How the hell are you alive? I tore you limb from limb?" Waylon growled with curiosity. "I must be getting rusty."

"Same way that little girlfriend of yours is alive. Although you just tore my limbs off, I've seen the pictures of what you did to Madeline." Cash sneered, his words intended to piss Waylon off and remind him of how much of a bad person he was. "I didn't think it was possible to bring someone back from the dead after their internal organs had spilled out into the gutter. But these people seem to be in the habit of doing the impossible." Waylon growled a sigh at the reminder and felt a small chill of dread that more of the people he'd killed over the years were going to magically reappear and remind him how savagely he'd killed Madeline.

"Who else is here?" Waylon asked, glancing around for familiar faces, but everyone else was in hazmat suits.

"I've seen Scarecrow knocking about in the labs."

"Scarecrow? Seriously? How? Last I saw him he was still crying and whimpering in Arkham from all that fear gas Batman pumped into him when that batman-wannabe tried to take over the city or something." Waylon pondered. He wasn't sure on the specifics since he'd been in Iron Heights at the time.

"He's here too you know." Cash added.

"What? Batman?"

"No, although I wouldn't be surprised if they had him stored away here too." Cash said, scanning around as if a clue would pop up at any moment. "Na, they got the Arkham Knight, the batman-wannabe as you put it. He's the one that re-captured you actually."

"Madeline called him Jason." Waylon remembered, trying to remember what had happened. If he recalled correctly, Madeline had hissed his name like someone who had just suffered the most painful betrayal.

"Oh yeah, they were friends when he was still in the cell next to hers. I heard he had a thing for her, hence why he agreed to work for the facility when they started sending the poor girl out on missions to fight _you_."

"What?" Waylon growled, blood boiling and vision flashing red. The thought of another man even thinking about Madeline like that made him very angry. He had become even more territorial now that he had devolved some more and especially since he had been apart from Madeline for so long.

Cash laughed at Waylon's response.

"I'm surprised you're this pissed?" He chucked, rather amused by it all.

"Why?" Waylon growled, casually imaging crushing Jason's skull in his hands.

"Madeline is gorgeous man, don't tell me you haven't had to deal with other guys being interested in her before?"

"They don't usually live long enough." Waylon growled, glaring at Cash and baring his teeth. Was _he_ interested in Madeline too?

"Easy, I'm not interested." Cash protested, putting his hands up in surrender. "She's gotta be a whole lot of crazy if she'd into you." Waylon uncomfortably rolled his shoulders and tugged at the collar a little. Where was Madeline? Did they have her in another cell? Was she nearby or at the other end of the facility?

"Who else is here?" Cash mumbled to himself as he thought. "Professor Pyg, Dr. Strange, Dr. Langstrom, he's the head of the Gene Activation project so you'll be seeing a lot of him."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Waylon queried, rather confused as to why Cash wasn't damning him to hell and was instead giving him helpful tips and heads up for what was going on. "You trust me or something?"

"Hell no!" Cash exclaimed, sounding rather insulted. "I don't trust you in the slightest."

"But..?"

"But I don't trust these guys either?" Cash added quietly, checking that no one was listening.

"So leave?"

"Not if I want my head intact." Cash laughed, tapping the side of his neck. He had a bomb in there too.

"So what are you getting all chummy with me for?" Waylon grumbled, starting to get frustrated with how cryptic Cash was being.

"I don't trust you, but I do trust that you hate these guys as much as Batman hated Joker, and I _hope_ that when you get your act together and bust out of here you'll leave a nice hole in the wall for those of us that want to follow."

"Waylon!" A voice called out cheerfully, cutting through the tension and anger like a hot knife through butter. Waylon's blood instantly settled and he turned to see human Madeline running towards his cell, an expression of happiness and worry on her face. She wasn't trapped in a cell like he was? She out and about walking around the facility? Why? What deal had she made? Madeline pressed her face up against the glass and Waylon quickly realised he should go over to her and stop being suspicious, although his suspicions still remained. Why was she out? But more importantly, why was Jason only a few feet behind accompanying her. Was he her supervisor, warden? Was he just doing it because he _wanted_ to.

"Oh my God I'm so glad you're alright." Madeline sighed, her hands on the glass and her head down as a weight seemed to be lifted off of her. She must have been so worried about him. It was comforting to know that she still thought of _him_ first. Waylon glared at Jason who stayed a few feet away from Madeline but watched her every move closely and didn't even notice Waylon glaring at him with intense hatred.

"Babe, she got me to sign some agreement to do whatever they want me to do and in return I can walk around this place. I asked about you but she said they can't offer you the same deal so..."

"What kinds of things do they want you to do?" Waylon interrupted, curious as to the details and to find out if Madeline had just signed over her soul to the devil or something.

"Experiments, or missions and stuff." Madeline blundered, sounding worryingly unsure. "I don't know the details but whatever it is they're going to make you do it too."

"They'll send you on special covert operation missions." Jason interrupted. "Things that _normal_ people can't do. Jobs requiring a certain level of ' _ferocity_ '."

Waylon did not like the way Jason was speaking, and not just because he was actively doing so. Was he insinuating something of a sexual nature with regards to Madeline, suggesting that she was ' _ferocious_ ' as Waylon had done many times before. He was certainly keeping an eye on her and probably imagining being with her, if he hadn't already done so in his sleep. The very thought of Jason even _thinking_ about Madeline in the slightest way pissed Waylon off beyond belief. He wanted smash through the glass that held him inside the cell and pummel Jason into a fine paste. He wanted to crush his skull, tear his limbs and devour his flesh only to puke it up with disgust.

"Babe? Are you okay?" Madeline asked, cutting through Waylon's vicious fantasies and bringing him back to reality. "Your pupils turned to slits?" Waylon shook the thoughts of carnage and monstrosity from his head. He hadn't even realised his eyes had switched and his vision had blurred red. It was to be expected now that Madeline was back in his life. He was protective of her, and definitely the jealous type. Even after so long without her he so easily returned to how he had been four years ago. It kinda made him feel like shit when he thought about the progress he'd actually made in those four years, not devolving into a monster or losing it nearly as often as he once had. Of course _that_ wasn't what made him feel shit. It was considering that Madeline had something to do with that that made him feel like a terrible person.

He took a deep breath and took a moment to re think. He glanced at Madeline who had taken a few steps back after seeing his eyes change. She was still scared? Sure it had been a while and he certainly looked different, but she had gone toe to toe with him only a few days ago. Then again, up until yesterday she had been reptilian like him. She had been able to stand up to him and seemed excite in being able to do so. He examined her closely. She was human now and seemed so ordinary in comparison to the amazing creature he had fought and made love to the day before. It was hard to comprehend but when he thought of Madeline now, he didn't see the girl standing before him in his mind. He saw the reptilian creature, the one with turquoise scales, slightly darker splodges over her nose, feathery hair and a nimble body, long legs and a talented tail. He still loved her, that went without saying, and hearing her speak and just being in her presence made him feel whole... But he found himself shutting his eyes and pretending she was like _him_ again. Maybe it was because he felt like they were better suited to each other that way. Or maybe it was because _that_ form suited Madeline better than her human body. She was aggressive, tough, sexy and ferocious, everything that reptilian form embodied in appearance, movement and potential. Her human body now seemed like it just didn't do her justice.

Jason hadn't been referring to Madeline being _ferocious_ , Waylon now realised. He didn't see Madeline that way since he hardly even knew her. No, he would perhaps see Madeline only in the physical sense and know nothing of who she really was. ' _Ferocious_ ' was most likely a jab at Waylon above anything else. Then again, did Waylon really know _everything_ about who Madeline was. She had been outraged at the idea of Waylon becoming a human. Didn't she want him to be happy. _He_ only wanted to become a human to be with her since he didn't see any scope for it to work with him the way he was. Not anymore. They needed to be the same. It was the only way. Otherwise their differences would just grow and they would... or at least _he_ would feel less and less compatible with Madeline. Surely there would also be a point where Madeline turned around and realised she was with a giant crocodile monster. Sure it had worked for Beauty and the Beast but that was only because the beast became a handsome prince in the end. Would Beauty have stayed forever if he hadn't?

"Babe? You're zoning out." Madeline queried, again cutting into Waylon's thoughts.

"Oh. Sorry, I'm not feeling too good." He half lied, rubbing his head. "Must have something to do with being locked up against my will." He glanced deliberately at Jason as he spoke but the guy just shrugged as if there was nothing he could do about it. Or more accurately, nothing he _wanted_ to do about it.

"Don't worry. I'll figure something out." Madeline whispered, stepping closer to the glass so no one else heard. It was a good thing that Waylon's hearing was excellent otherwise he would have not heard. What was Madeline going to do though? They had bombs in their necks. Madeline put her hand against the glass and rested her head against it too.

"I wish I could touch you." She whispered, her eyes cast down. Waylon felt a small tingle in his chest. While he had no immediate desire to grab Madeline, press her down and kiss her with passion, no attraction to this form, he still longed to be near to her. He still longed to be close to her, to hear her voice and be soothed by her presence. He put his hand up too on the opposite side of the glass to Madeline's, and rested his head against where her head would have been if the glass between them was destroyed.

"I'm sorry I got us into this mess." Madeline said, her words a surprise and somewhat confusing.

"What do you mean?" Waylon asked, glancing up.

"If I had... I dunno, fought harder, not held back."

"You were holding back?" Waylon clarified, rather befuddled.

"Well yeah." Madeline said, as if it wasn't surprising. "I didn't want to kill them."

Waylon couldn't help but grin to himself. Yes, that was the other thing that made them to drastically different, other than how they appeared. Madeline was not a criminal. She wasn't a killer. Sure, she wasn't exactly an angel and had appeared to enjoy watching Waylon kill someone for her. The bank robbers, her ex boyfriend, but Madeline had never been the one to kill. Those militia, they were just following orders, it was their job to capture them, just as it was a postman's job to deliver mail. They were innocent, and did not deserve to be killed. Waylon didn't really see the point of morality and killed whoever he wanted to kill, although it wasn't like he went on rampages and slaughtered blind orphans and pregnant women. He did have no qualms with _letting_ said innocent people die, he certainly wouldn't rush to save them. Madeline had an issue with that of course. At the Gotham Bank when Riddler held everyone there, including Madeline, hostage, and Waylon had shown up to rescue her, she had refused to leave without all the other people, and even become quite upset when Waylon had tried to push her to abandoning them. He had ended up getting crushed by the building afterwards though.

Madeline's morality did make Waylon wonder however, how well she would be suited to whatever these missions were going to be. If they involved hurting the innocent how would Madeline cope? He decided upon taking those tasks into his own hands and ensuring Madeline had no part in it. He didn't want her to become tainted with the blood of innocence on her hands. No, that was his responsibly, besides, he couldn't exactly wash his hands clean.

"Madeline." Jason interrupted, and the way Madeline removed her hand and turned to Jason was a little too quick to make Waylon feel anything other than jealous and annoyed.

"What?"

"I have to take you back to your room. The curfew for subjects is soon and they'll punish us if we're out for so much as a second late." Jason explained. Waylon wanted to believe that it was a lie to keep Madeline away from him for jealous reasons, but sadly Jason was most likely telling the truth.

"Okay." Madeline said, and turned back to Waylon. "I'll come and see you as soon as I can tomorrow okay?" She pressed her lips against the glass for a kiss. Waylon hesitated. He was perfectly fine with resting his head against the glass and putting his hand up in some spiritual connecting thing, but kissing the glass? Seriously?

"Babe you're supposed to kiss back." Madeline pouted, looking rather frustrated with him. Waylon really didn't want to do something so sappy, but Madeline was looking at him with her big emerald eyes pleadingly. He felt guilty about all the things that had been running through his head, and even if Madeline wasn't aware of them, he still needed to show her he loved her. Even if that meant being a pathetic suck and kissing her through glass.

He shut his eyes and did the quickest most awkward peck on the glass, he wasn't even sure if he had kissed Madeline's lips or missed entirely. When he opened his eyes he was met with a grinning, beaming face filled with mischief and ecstatic entertainment.

"What?" He asked suspiciously.

"You looked ridiculous doing that." Madeline giggled, covering her mouth so she didn't laugh too loudly. Wait... had she made him do that knowing that it would be embarrassing on purpose?

"Oh... I see how it is. Fuck you." Waylon growled playfully, grinning a half entertained half pained smile. If he was capable of blushing he certainly would be.

"Yes well, that is exactly what we'd be doing if there wasn't any glass here." Madeline said with a smirk, pressing her chest up against the glass just a little bit. She couldn't be _totally_ provocative since there were lots of scientists around and not to mention the impatient Jason standing a few feet away. She was acting very sexy though, and while Waylon could logically see how it was sexy, he just wasn't feeling it. Maybe it was because he was locked in a cell against his will with an electric collar around his neck. Or, maybe it was because in comparison to her reptilian form Madeline's human body just didn't... No, he wasn't allowed to even think that way.

"Madeline, come on." Jason said impatiently. Madeline sighed, blew Waylon and kiss and gave him a brief wave goodbye before following Jason back down the hallway and further and further away from Waylon.

"Man that was kind of pathetic." Cash said, his amused and mocking tone not the best way to remind Waylon of what had just transpired.

"Yes well, I kiss the glass and she kisses me in other places. Seems like a pretty fair trade off to me." Waylon shrugged. The thought of Madeline doing that in her reptilian body drifted into his mind and _then_ his body responded in the way it should have before. Then he considered that her reptilian body was like his and she had teeth _like_ his, and the rising manhood subsequently subsided.

"Oh gross, man." Cash shivered, looking thoroughly disgusted. It was either because he was imagining it or he was a prude. Possibly the former.

"You're as bad a Riddler." Waylon complained. When he had been living at the orphanage with Riddler he had tried to do the _banter_ thing he knew men were supposed to do. Riddler was not the right person and just seemed half disgusted and half insulted by Waylon's attempt to ensue banter.

"Sorry, it's just kinda gross... you know... when it's you." Cash tried to explain, completely failing at not being offensive. "So I gotta ask. Why is Madeline into you?"

"What? Isn't my charming good looks obvious enough." Waylon joked, flashing his teeth and making Cash look even more disgusted and slightly uncomfortable. "She finds me charming and irresistible."

"Seriously?" Cash asked, actually asking it as a question and not a statement of disbelief.

"What? Am I not allowed to have a personality other than ' _evil cannibal monster crocodile_ '?" Waylon joked, but it had always annoyed him that most people only saw him as a monster and never actually considered him a person. Aside from Madeline of course, and maybe Riddler.

"Maybe the GCPD should take all the villains out on dates and get to know them first before putting the cuffs on them." Cash suggested, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Waylon laughed at that, loud and heartily. It was the first thing he'd heard that was actually funny in a long time.

"Yeah. I personally like long walks on the beach and getting shit faced drunk. Red wine only though, cheap, and straight from the bottle." Waylon added, making Cash laugh in response. It was kinda of annoying to consider but Waylon had to begrudgingly admit Cash was actually an okay guy. Perhaps they could have been friends if Waylon wasn't a criminal, or looked like a freak, or grew up in Gotham for that matter.

"Red wine?" Cash asked, most likely surprised the big bad crocodile drank wine of all things. What would a crocodile drink anyway?

"Well it was all my abusive alcoholic aunt had in stock while I was growing up as an outcast, minority child in a low income estate with a horrible skin condition and no friends."

Cash glared at him.

"Well now you're just make me feel like shit." He complained.

"That was the point." Waylon grinned, rather satisfied with his accomplishment. "So why aren't you rushing off with the curfew?"

"I'm staff, not a subject. Which reminds me why I came here in the first place." Cash announced as he scratched the back of his head with his hook hand. "What do you eat nowadays?"

Waylon didn't respond, he looked down and honestly tried to think of the answer. It wasn't really a case of what he _wanted_ to eat, but more of what he _could_ eat. He knew he wouldn't be getting any human down here but it was all he had been eating for the past four years.

"Croc?" Cash asked again, and Waylon shook his head.

"Just... meat." He explained in the vaguest way possible.

"Chicken? Fish? Beef? Pork..?" Cash listed. "...human?"

"No!" Waylon protested, maybe a little too suddenly to be convincing. "Just whatever."

"How old?" Cash asked, sounding disgusted at the question.

"What?"

"I heard you like your food slightly rotting." Cash explained, sounding like he was trying to be considerate and tip toe around the fact that it was disgusting. Waylon was disgusted by it. Not the meat, that he found it more delicious a few days old. He was disgusting. He was a monster, truly. But that didn't really bother him. He could live with that. What did bother him was that Madeline _didn't_ know about this disgusting little preference he had. How repulsed would she be if she found out. Repulsed enough to leave him and run into the arms of a waiting Jason? No, he had to stop thinking about that otherwise he'd just go crazy with jealous rage.

"That's not true." He lied. "I eat fresh, cooked meat." Again, he was lying.

"Oh." Cash said, sounding surprised and slightly relieved. "Sirloin steak it is then."

Cash left and Waylon dragged the mattress over to the corner of the cell. There was too much space for him to be comfortable sleeping, but he wasn't really concerned about that. He was more concerned about Madeline. Was she safe in her room. Was Jason far away from her or just next door. They had better be in separate rooms otherwise he was going to tear the place town, electric collar or no electric collar. He didn't know why he was so worried. Madeline would never do that to him, he knew that. But the thing that bugged him was that she had the option to do so. If she wanted to leave him she could. That was the difference. He didn't have the option, not that he wanted one, and even if he did he wouldn't want to leave Madeline, at least that's what he believed. He didn't like the feeling that Madeline could potentially leave him. If she did, and left him while still alive for that matter, it might just kill him. Her death had left him on the brink of losing his humanity, and it had taken a very long time for him to regain control over himself. But if Madeline made the conscious decision to leave him, he would surely slip into the darkness for good.

 **Yes, I know it has been a while. But I shall try to update more frequently. Maybe I'll commit to once a week. Please leave reviews as it incentivises me to update more frequently when I see people are still reading, although I know a lot of you are probs sick of waiting for so long. Here is an incentive to stick with me. Coming up in chapters to follow we will have some more characters making their appearances, including King Shark, Poison Ivy and more. So stay tuned and bare with me. Also I've been drawing a comic on deviantart and that takes up a lot of time, combined with study, gaming and work, I'm fairly busy. But I love you guys so I shall try to be more vigilant.**


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